On My Heels
by XxwhisperingxX
Summary: What could you really say about Rachel Berry? She loved Broadway shows, vinyl records, and Quinn Fabray.
1. Chapter 1

Look, I'm back with another story. I know I'm not the best writer and all that jazz, but I really love this story so I thought I would Faberry it. So yes, this is based off of a book that was also turned into a movie. I'm not going to say which one though because if some people haven't seen it then I don't want them to go look it up because it would totally spoil it. Ha.

If you think you know what it is though let me know in a review. :D Even if you don't know what it is you should leave me a review because it was my birthday the other day and it can just be a late birthday present, right? Am I guilt tripping you guys into it?

That's about it. This story is AU, obviously. The first chapter is short-kind of just there to get it going.

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Glee! I'm a poor college student.**

* * *

Rachel Berry had been one of the most intriguing people she had ever met. The girl knew her Broadway shows like no other. She had every Barbra Streisand album on vinyl. She called in sick for work once a year so that she could watch the Tony Awards.

She was high maintenance and anal retentive. She knew what she wanted and would not settle for anything less. Despite her flaws she was easily the most caring person alive. She was selfless and giving. She always put others before herself. She believed that despite what Elphaba thought good deeds did go without punishment.

She had her life figured out for her. She was going to take Broadway by storm at the young age of twenty-two. She would have loved to be on stage before then, but she wanted to attend college full-time. She worried that auditioning for roles while still in school would sway her to drop out and pursue the stage. By twenty-four she would be in a committed relationship. She would be happy with her partner and ready to talk about settling down-being serious.

By twenty-five she would possible be married to the love of her life. She knew that whoever she fell for would be just as kind as she was. They would have a heart of gold. They would love the stage as much as she did. They would be her number one fan and support her with her every role.

She and her spouse would have children-two at least. She wanted a boy first so that if they had a girl second he would take care and protect her.

Rachel Berry had her entire life figured out, really.

What she didn't expect was Quinn Fabray.

* * *

"Mark, I understand what you are asking me to do, but I certainly do not think that we should simply alphabetize our selections by artists. Perhaps we could alphabetize them by the artists but have their individual genres because I honestly cannot fathom having these Carolina people near the Carpenters. It makes no sense," she shouted while waving around two very different albums.

"Rachel, I don't care what you do. You're just supposed to sit behind the counter and take the money from people. We aren't even organized in ABC order now so what the fuck are you talking about?" She gasped before placing the records back in their spot and making her way over to the owner of the store.

"Languare, Mark," she replied before taking the cigarette out of his mouth and throwing it to the ground. "You know that you can't smoke in here. I cannot be around cigarette smoke. It could damage my lungs, and do you know what that would mean?" Mark rolled his eyes. "It means that my voice would be ruined. Without breath control a singer is nothing."

"Last week you said without proper tone a singer was nothing." Rachel scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "Besides, I own this place. I can smoke if I want to. You're the one working for me, Berry." Rachel pouted and watched as the older man made his way to the back of the store-probably to drink a beer and watch re-runs of _That 70s Show. _

She begrudgingly made her way over to the counter and sat. They didn't get much business. Rachel had realized that most kids actually weren't like her. They didn't want a record; they had iPods. The "ancient" people still had CDs.

The bell chimed alerting them of a new customer. She figured it was Jacob Ben Israel. He had been harboring an undesired crush on Rachel throughout high school. Upon finding her work place he often came by in hopes of getting her to accept a date offering.

He was always unsuccessful.

"Hello," Rachel greatly dryly without looking up from the magazine she kept behind the counter. Upon hearing no response she realized it wasn't Jacob. She raised her head long enough to see a stunning young blonde making her way around the different racks of music. "Can I help you?" Rachel eagerly questioned, excited that someone her age possibly had a shared interest with her.

"No, I'm just looking," the blonde replied stiffly. Rachel's jaw dropped. She had just been brushed off by some silly college girl.

"Suit yourself. I do not think that you will be able to find whatever it is you are looking for. I am not sure if you are aware, but this is a record store. We do not carry iTunes cards or whatever it is you want." The blonde looked up from the current bin she was beside and gawked.

"Excuse you," she coolly replied before continuing to go through the music. "I'm the customer. I believe you should be behind the counter unless I ask for your assistance." Rachel hmmphed before prancing back over to the counter.

Clearly this girl had no tact. She would complain to Mark about their customers as soon as the blonde bimbo left. She picked up her magazine and began to thumb through it noisily-a habit she picked up in high school upon dating some dumb jock. She would flip through pages of books loudly just so the poor fool would understand that she was angry.

"Hey, do you guys have the newest Ra Ra Riot album?" Rachel continued flipping through the magazine, too focused on her hatred towards this new customer to even realize that said customer was speaking. "Excuse me," the blonde shouted.

"What?" Rachel shouted back before realizing she was doing an excellent job of proving to Mark that she did indeed need to be fired. "I apologize, what did you say?"

"The new Ra Ra Riot album?" The blonde smirked. Rachel's brows drew together.

"I'm sorry, I don't know who the Ya Ha's are. You'll have to ask Mark," she replied before picking the magazine back up and pointing to the back door where Mark was located. She began to lightly hum "Send in the Clowns." She was brought out of her song by a pale palm slapping the counter in front of her.

"I don't know what you're problem is, but you are terrible at this job. I intend to complain." Rachel snorted before waving her hand. "Well, Rachel, I hope you didn't like working here." The brunette dropped the magazine and glared at the blonde.

"I will ignore the fact that you know my name despite the fact that I did not give it to you long enough to say that I do enjoy working here and that your nonsensical babbling will not change that. You cannot get me fired simply because I didn't know who the Yo-Ho's were."

"See? You didn't even pay attention when I asked. You didn't look. You just sat behind the counter, flipping through your stupid Cosmo, while singing 'Send in the Clowns.' You're terrible at this job." Rachel's face lit up.

"You know that song?" The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Listen Rachel, there is a point that I'm trying to make." Rachel arched her eyebrow beckoning the girl to continue. "You will be fired now."

"You can't fire me."

"I'm actually going to law school. Perhaps I can't fire you, but I'm sure my family could pull some strings. I'm sure that Mark wouldn't appreciate being sued for something as petty as a lousy worker." Rachel's jaw dropped as she sputtered random words to the blonde.

"You can't have me fired. I'd quit before I let that happen. Besides, you're bluffing. I've done nothing to warrant having Mark sued." Rachel took in a much needed breath of air before really looking over the blonde. Despite her horrid personality she was incredibly beautiful. Her hair was curled and came slightly past her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were shinning with amusement. Her smile was dazzling, to say the least. Rachel was certain that she'd never seen a smile so radiant, and she owned a mirror!

"Relax, I wouldn't waste our time on you. You remind me of those little robot pets I had as a child." Rachel's face scrunched up into one of confusion and thought. The blonde laughed forcing Rachel to groan. Why did the bitch have to have such a beautiful laugh?

"You do know what I'm talking about, right?" The blonde interrupted.

"No, I can't say that I do. I did not have robot pets growing up." The blonde rolled her eyes.

"You had to virtually take care of them. They barked and shit when they needed to be fed. Of course, eventually they barked so much you just wanted them to die already." Rachel's jaw dropped in offense. The blonde girl tilted her head back and continued laughing.

"Is there a reason that you are still here? I don't see the point in this conversation. I'd rather converse with Jacob." The blonde's perfect eyebrow arched-causing Rachel to wonder when she started to refer to anything on this foul creature as perfect.

"Who is Jacob?"

"He's this imbecile who keeps attempting me to go on some sort of outing with him. I keep denying his advances. I simply do not want to go on a date with him, but he seems to not understand." The blonde girl nodded.

"Well, I don't want to converse with you anyway. I don't know why this Jacob boy wants to go out with you. You're the last person on Earth I'd want to go on a date with." Rachel felt her face flush. The nerve of the girl before her was outlandish. She fought the urge to slap her across the face with a special edition copy of her dictionary and opted for remaining calm.

"I wouldn't go on a date with you even if you wanted to go on one with me. You're incredibly rude and egotistical. I don't even know your name, but I assume it's something ugly to match your soul."

"It's Quinn," the blonde replied. Rachel's smirk fell. Quinn actually was a pretty name when used with the girl before her. "I study law."

"Is there a reason you're telling me this? Again?" Quinn snorted and shook her head.

"I thought if I told you what I did then you would tell me what you did?" Rachel sighed dramatically and prayed that some other customer would come in so that this girl would leave.

"I'm Rachel. I don't study law." Quinn trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. Rachel couldn't help that she found it adorable. "I go to Berklee."

"The music school?" Quinn's nose scrunched up in distaste. Rachel once again fought the urge to punch the girl. After all, she did not condone violence and chances were this girl could kill her.

"What other Berklee do you know?" Rachel retorted angrily. Quinn opened her mouth to respond. "And please do not say UC Berkeley." Quinn rolled her eyes again, something Rachel noticed she did frequently.

"It's plausible."

"Yes, I go to college in California, but I work at a record store in Boston. That makes complete sense. You said you were going to law school or something? Are you sure about that?" Quinn smirked once again forcing Rachel to admit that the blonde did look slightly hot when confident.

"Harvard Law." Rachel groaned.

"That explains it." Quinn's expression changed in a matter of seconds. She leaned forward and rested her chin on the palm of her hand.

"Explains what, Rachel?"

"First of all I want to know how you knew my name before I even told it to you. I'm certain that I've never met you before. I know that I would remember someone as conceited and pompous as yourself."

"You're wearing a name-tag," she evenly responded. Rachel immediately felt herself blush with embarrassment. "What does it explain though? My witty comebacks? My valid arguments?"

"Why you're a jackass," Rachel replied with a smug grin of her own. "Now, I'm sure that you have exams you need to go study for so please go." Quinn chuckled before glancing at the watch on her wrist.

"Say we go get some coffee." Rachel looked incredulous.

"Why would I want to get coffee with you?"Quinn looked as though she were thinking of reasons to list off. Rachel groaned, knowing that the blonde would actually do such a thing.

* * *

"I don't actually think you're smart." Quinn scoffed, much to Rachel's delight. "I think you're just an inheritance baby. Your father was able to pay your way into college."

"Sure, my father pays for my education, but it doesn't mean that I'm not smart." Rachel bit her lip before taking a sip out of the coffee she had ordered.

"So, going to Harvard, is this some kind of family thing? Every person in the history of your family has attended this school?" Quinn sighed again before taking a bite out of the cookie she had ordered.

"You think you have me figured out, don't you?" Rachel nodded. "Whatever, you think I don't know your type? You're the humble artist. You're poor and you get by on your talent alone. You rub your work into everyone else's face."

"I do not."

"I don't even know what you do. You're a singer, I bet." Rachel nodded. "See, the thing is-you think you're so much better than I am because you got into school based on your talents-not money. How do you know that I'm not a good lawyer? I don't even know what I did to piss you off so bad, but you're a real bitch, Rachel."

"Well so are you."

"Touché."

* * *

"I still don't know your last name," Quinn whispered, still standing outside her dorm room, despite the falling of the snow. Rachel simply shrugged her shoulders and turned to leave, leaving Quinn slightly confused and very curious about the slightly insane girl. The blonde wasted no time running after the brunette. "Come on, who are you?"

"You spent the entire day mocking me, calling me names, and telling me about how great you are. Not once did you ask me a single thing about me. Why should I tell you my name?" Quinn shrugged her shoulders before gently pressing her lips against the brunette's. "I didn't say that you could kiss me," she shrieked.

"Mine is Fabray." Rachel's eyes sparkled with mirth."Why do you look like that?"

"As in the building we just passed by?" Quinn groaned and hoped that Rachel would believe her rosy cheeks were caused by the chilly air and not her embarrassment.

"Yes, one in the same," Quinn replied. "What's yours?"

"I'm afraid I don't have a building named after me." Quinn placed her hands on her hips angrily and watched as the petite girl began to cackle with laughter. "Rachel Berry. I would say that it was nice to meet you, Quinn Fabray, but it actually wasn't."

"The feeling is mutual," Quinn responded with a small smile before running back towards her dorm room.

* * *

"Did you have a date?" Rachel shut the door behind her to see her roommate sprawled out on her bed. "You've never been out this late. I thought about turning you in to the Missing Persons thing on campus."

"No, I didn't have a date. This girl came into the store spouting off nonsense then she made me go get coffee with her so she could spout off more nonsense." Her roommate clutched her stomach as the waves of laughter rolled off of her. "Why are you laughing?"

"You're completely right. That was not a date." Rachel nodded, misunderstanding the girl's sarcasm. "At least you two didn't kiss."

"She actually did kiss me. I informed her that I didn't give her permission, but she didn't really respond." This seemed to cause a new onset of laughter.

"Rachel, you're so stupid," she offered with a small smile.

* * *

You should totally hit that review button now. ;D Let me know if it sucks or whatnot. I promise I can handle it. I'm not a writer for a reason! :P


	2. Chapter 2

Wow you guys! Thanks so much for all the feedback on that last chapter! It made my night! :D I tried to respond to all of my reviews but a lot of you guys were anons so I'm thanking you now! Reviews definitely inspire you to keep writing. I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint.

Enjoy!

* * *

She had been reading the same paragraph for the past twenty minutes. It wasn't that the book was boring. Well, actually it was, but she couldn't keep certain thoughts from popping into her head. She sighed in frustration before tossing the book aside and reaching for the cell phone resting beside her.

No messages. No missed calls.

She slid the phone back into its place and stepped out of the chair and away from her desk. Her dorm room was suffocating at best. It was lifeless and cold-reminding her of her days back home. She purged all of the thoughts from her mind and grabbed the scarf and coat she had left haphazardly on the small bed. She quickly made her way out of her room and towards the third floor lobby.

"Where are you going?" Santana. She looked around the common room to see the Latina eating some popcorn on the couch with her blonde counterpart. She had befriended the girl upon finding out that they were roommates. Unlike Quinn, Santana actually wanted to get into law school and was working her ass off to make sure that it happened.

"Out," she coolly replied, not in the mood to explain her actions. Brittany gave her a knowing smile. The blonde always knew. Quinn hadn't really understood Brittany the first few times Santana had brought her around but living three years with the same person kind of fixed that for you. What the girl lacked in book smarts she made up for with common sense. Well, kind of. She could read people better than anyone Quinn had ever met.

"Leave her alone, San. She's got a date." Santana's eyes lit up.

"Who in their right mind would be dumb enough to go after this thing?" Santana questioned while pointing vaguely to Quinn. She felt as though she should be offended, and yet somehow, she couldn't bring herself to care about Santana's yapping. She had likened the Latina to a Chihuahua. They were annoying. They never shut up. "So, who is it?" The blonde continued to watch as Santana eyed her with some sort of disgust. "Hello, Q?"

"What?" Quinn shouted to the couple, completely unaware of anything that had been going on previously. "What did you ask me?" Santana rolled her eyes and mumbled a few words that Quinn had realized were _bad _words in Spanish.

"I asked who it was." Quinn arched an eyebrow. "What creature is going out with you?" She shouted, throwing several pieces of popcorn in her general direction.

"Santana, quit being mean," Brittany rubbed the girl's arm soothingly in some sort of attempt to placate her. Quinn watched in amusement as the Latina visibly calmed down. Santana and Brittany's relationship never ceased to amaze Quinn. She had never been one to be genuinely involved with relationships. She never saw the need in having someone beside you throughout life, but lately she had felt different. She would stay up all night thinking about what it would be like to have someone lying beside her. She wondered whether or not that person would help her study or take her out on dates when she locked herself inside too many hours in a day.

She had never been tempted by anyone though. She couldn't find the right person. Meeting Rachel Berry had been some sort of sign-whether it was from God or Satan himself she had yet to decide.

"I'm not going to meet anyone," Quinn replied truthfully. She didn't notice the faltering smile on Brittany's face or the look of disappointment on Santana's. "I'm just going out for a bit. I've been studying too long. I need some fresh air. I wasn't aware I needed your permission," she pointed her sickly sweet smile to Santana.

"Whatever," the Latina grumbled before putting the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table and then wrapping her arms around Brittany completely. "Keep talking, Sweetheart. I'm sure someday you'll get something right," she called out once Quinn had made it to the elevator.

"Shut up, Santana," she growled in response before hitting the button that would take her to the main floor.

She wandered around the town aimlessly. She simply wanted to get away from everything for just a small amount of time.

* * *

Rachel took a small sip out of her coffee before setting the cup back down and reaching for her book. She loved classical music as much as the next person, but she realized that reading dozens upon dozens of biographies on the deceased composers wasn't shaping up to be a favorite hobby of hers.

She let out a silent sigh of relief upon hearing the ringing of the doorbell. She bit her lip to keep the smile off her face. "Hey, it's Preppy," she commented sarcastically. The blonde smiled before jogging over to the counter. "What are you doing back?"

"I wanted to ask you something." Rachel nodded eager to hear whatever it was that the girl had to say. "Why did you fight so hard to get me to take you on that date?"

Rachel took a sip out of the coffee and took the extra seconds to simply watch Quinn. The girl was something else. "As I recall you were the one who asked me out, Miss Fabray, but if you must know…" Quinn nodded. "I like your body." A crimson blush adorned the girl's cheeks and Rachel silently praised herself for getting the reaction.

"Friday at 7:30 Harvard plays Boston University," she replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why would I care who Harvard plays?" Quinn chuckled to herself before making her way over to one of the racks of music.

"Rachel Berry, you are an uptight bitch who seems to think that I'm some sort of insensitive asshole. I think we'd make an amazing team despite the fact that we know nothing about each other." Rachel scoffed before following Quinn to a different aisle.

"It wasn't for lack of trying on my part," Rachel shouted. "You simply talked about how wonderful you were and how lucky I was for talking you into going on a date with me." Quinn nodded in agreement. "I suppose I should be grateful though. I got to go on a date with a Fabray."

"Hey now, wait a minute," Quinn interrupted.

"What's it like having a hall named after you? Do you go there a lot? Do people find it amusing that one of their own is the reason they have that particular building?" The blonde clenched her first before shoving the smaller girl against the back wall.

"Now listen here, the hall wasn't named after me. My great-grandfather donated money to the school. I can't help that," she watched intently as the chocolate orbs of the girl before her darkened considerably. "I've never even been in the damn building," she whispered into her ear before letting go of the girl's wrists.

She took a few steps back but stumbled into a small table consisting of albums on sale. Rachel ignored the blonde's awkward fumbling. She took two steps before wrapping her right hand around the taller girl's neck and pulling her in for a kiss.

She didn't want to be kissing the girl, but her lips were oh so inviting. She moaned softly once Quinn actually responded to the kiss. She was pushed backwards once again into the dingy wall but found that she didn't mind when Quinn's hands were roaming her body carefully, as though to memorize every piece of her.

She pulled way as soon as she felt the girl's tongue asking for entrance. Quinn's face was flushed and her breathing labored, and damn it if Rachel didn't think it was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. The blonde's lips curved into a smile. "That was actually not bad," she stated before running her fingers over her lips.

"I'm an excellent kisser despite the fact that I haven't had much practice." She groaned upon replaying the sentence in her head. "I do not know why I just told you that."

"So 7:30 on Friday? You'll be at the hockey game?"

Sports were not Rachel's thing. At all. She had once broken her arm from her single attempt at playing softball at the Boston Jewish Community Center. She enjoyed playing sports as much as she enjoyed watching them. She could not for the life of her understand why those stunning hazel eyes were about to be the reason she accepted the invitation for what would be a disaster.

"Why would I go to a hockey game, Quinn? I have a composition I have to have done by Monday. I was going to use the weekend to perfect it." She saw something flash in those hazel eyes that resembled disappointment causing Rachel to feel giddy. Was the blonde going to be upset if Rachel turned her down? The thought alone was enough to lift Rachel's spirits.

"In case you've forgotten there will be Saturday and Sunday for you to work on this piece." Rachel nodded along and watched as Quinn shuffled her feet awkwardly. "So, that's final. I'll see you Friday?" Rachel reluctantly nodded.

Quinn smirked before turning around to exit the store, leaving Rachel slightly confused. "Wait," Rachel shouted. Quinn stopped walking but made no move to turn around. It was for the best, Rachel mused. She didn't want Quinn to know that a part of her was actually excited about spending more time with her. "Will you be picking me up?"

"No, I have to be there at 5:30." Rachel nodded to herself.

"Wait, why?" Quinn laughed quietly to herself before turning around slowly.

"Because I'm on the team," she responded with a wink before making a swift exit.

"The hell," Rachel mumbled to herself. There was no way that the small blonde thing that had just been in there was on a hockey team. She rushed over to the store's computer and searched 'Quinn Fabray.' Her jaw dropped upon seeing the various articles written on her sportsmanship and accomplishments on the ice. "Well, I'll be damned," she whispered to herself.

* * *

She couldn't contain her joy upon seeing the women on ice beating each other up. She was not one to condone violence but the thrill of it all was getting to her head, she supposed. The first time she had saw Quinn step foot onto the ice she knew her eyes had to be deceiving her. It made no sense that the beautiful blonde would choose hockey over something like figure skating.

She grimaced upon seeing Quinn fall particularly hard after passing the 'black thing' as Rachel dubbed it. The crowed began to cheer loudly as Quinn picked herself up and skated quickly after some random player as far as Rachel could tell. The blonde returned the favor, knocking them to the ground and pinning them there.

She picked up that something bad had happened, but she wasn't sure what. The crowd had resulted in throwing food at various people and booing. "Fabray: holding. Two minutes in the penalty box." Rachel laughed silently and watched as the pouty blonde threw her helmet against the floor once being safely led to the "box."

She eased herself from the crowed and made her way down the steps to where Quinn was sitting. The blonde's hair was matted to her forehead while the tiny beads of perspiration glazed down the skin of her neck. Her chest heaved from exertion. Rachel licked her lips before clearing her throat. Quinn's eyes continued raking the rink, watching with fervor. "Excuse me," Rachel shouted to no avail. She took in a deep breath, allowing her diaphragm to fill, "Hey!"

"What do you want?" Quinn shouted, eyes never leaving the rink.

"What are you doing in there? Why aren't you on the ice?" Quinn rolled her eyes before _finally _taking her eyes off of the game. The brunette's breath hitched. Quinn looked good. Quinn looked r_eally _good with the hockey gear on.

A particularly loud scream from the Boston University side broke Quinn's train of thought again. "Johnson, you're better than that," the blonde shouted before leaping to her feet and screaming out profanities. Rachel's grin never faltered; the blonde finally calmed down and seated herself before looking at the diva again. "What did you say?"

"I asked you why you weren't out there," Rachel re-stated. Quinn nodded.

"I'm in the penalty box," she clarified. Rachel sighed. The crowd would choose the very moment Quinn began to speak to loudly roar barbarically.

"What did you say?"

"I'm in the penalty box, Rachel," she shouted, earning a glare from who Rachel assumed was Quinn's coach. "Can you leave now?" Rachel shook her head. She had to sit through some stupid game where people simply passed a circle back and forth; she wasn't going to miss her golden opportunity to harass the poor girl before her.

"What did you do wrong?" Quinn's glare softened and she sighed before all thoughts of her hockey game vanished. Her full attention went to Rachel.

"I guess I tried too hard," she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders despite the fact that Rachel couldn't see that.

Rachel tapped her chin with her finger in mock thought. "Is that really a bad thing? I think trying hard makes us all better people."

"Not in hockey," Quinn replied. "Rachel, please go away. I need to watch what's happening. I can't concentrate with you standing there." The brunette smirked, pleased with what she heard.

"Well, why would you need to concentrate on anything else when I'm standing right here?" She twirled the end of her scarf around and waited on edge for the blonde's reply.

"I need to be worrying about how I'm going to cut that bitch in the face with my boot," she shouted while pointing to a particularly manly looking lady. Rachel lost all serious thoughts upon seeing Quinn's expression combined with her words. She threw her head back and cackled loudly. Quinn paused her movements to look at Rachel with worry.

"Do you play dirty?" Rachel asked suggestively. Quinn's jaw dropped at the sultry quality in the brunette's voice. She began to babble much to Rachel's amusement. "Quinn," Rachel leaned over the small rail separating them and pressed a longing kiss to the girl's lips, "do you play _dirty_?" She tried again.

"Uh," the blonde trailed off, too dumbfounded to reply. Rachel bit her lip to keep from laughing before looking at the she-man on the ice.

"Would you ever cut me in the face with your skates, Quinn?" The petite girl waited patiently for the girl to answer despite the fact that she was practically in a state of hysterics.

"Yes, Rachel," Quinn shouted once she finally gathered herself, "I'll cut you right now if you don't go away!" The brunette giggled before rolling her eyes playfully.

"Fine, I know where I'm not wanted," she replied before taking back off towards her seat.

"Fabray, back in the game," an intercom blared. Rachel excitedly began to clap before realizing what she had done. She quickly dropped her hands and watched Quinn gracefully skate back on the ice. The blonde looked as though she were out with a vengeance. She glided past the bulky players with the swiftness of a ballerina almost.

Her eyes met Rachel's and she was knocked on her ass. Rachel cackled loudly earning her a myriad of stares from the people beside her. "What a dork," she yelled despite not being heard. Quinn speed skated over to the goalie before retrieving the puck and taking back down the rink.

She watched with rapt attention as the blonde passed it to another girl who then scored. Rachel wasn't entirely sure what happened next but everyone on her side of the arena jumped into the air screaming frantically as though Barbra Streisand had just entered the building. "Goal, Jackson. Fabray with the assist," was announced loudly and Rachel couldn't help but smile.

* * *

"So, your first hockey game, huh?" Quinn asked with a smile. The blonde had been in a particularly good mood once the game had finally concluded. Rachel assumed it had to do with earning a win.

"Yes, it was my first hockey game," Rachel replied. Quinn eased her hand into Rachel's, smiling to herself when the girl allowed her to intertwine their fingers.

She looked at Rachel with a serious face."What was your favorite part?" Rachel pondered it for a moment before smiling brightly.

"When you fell on your ass," Quinn groaned before pulling the girl along.

"Look," Rachel shouted with amusement while pointing at a billboard. "Isn't that your father? He's holding a speech. We must go!" Quinn sighed, letting her grip on Rachel's hand tighten she pulled the brunette even harder.

"No," she replied before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you for coming," she whispered voice full of sincerity. Rachel wondered why the girl couldn't be that version of Quinn all of the time. She was always hiding behind some sort of snarky façade. "I mean that," she added. Once they reached Rachel's building Quinn stopped walking and opted for simply holding Rachel's hand and looking into her eyes. "You know, I may not call you for a few months."

Rachel felt her heart sink. She felt a panic form within her that she hadn't felt in years. "What?" She looked around the vast campus nervously, "why not?" Quinn took note of the girl's vulnerability and shy voice.

"Of course, I might call you the second I'm inside my dorm room," she began to laugh loudly. Rachel's cheek blushed with an embarrassment she hadn't felt since she had kissed Noah Puckerman in the janitor's closet in high school and gotten caught.

"You bitch," she shouted only furthering Quinn's laughter. She clutched at her sides as Rachel ran up the stairs of her dorm building.

* * *

"Fabray," Santana shouted before throwing the remote down. Brittany was once again curled into Santana's side. Quinn often wondered if Brittany ever actually left. She would fall asleep before Santana would make it back to their room and wake up once the Latina was gone.

"Whore," she greeted. "What are you guys up to?" Santana grunted while Brittany waved sheepishly.

"We just got done having sex," Brittany explained. "Santana told me you'd want to wash your sheets though," she scrunched her face up in wonder. The blonde rubbed her temples soothingly because _nothing, _not even Santana and her over-active sex life, was going to bring her night down. "How did your game go?"

"I did well, Brit," she replied with a small smile. "I did really well." Brittany clapped while Santana rolled her eyes. Again.

"With hockey or Berry," Santana questioned. It was Quinn's turn to roll her eyes. She walked past the duo and headed towards her hallway. "Someone's in a good mood for just a lousy hockey game," Santana shouted. "I'm your roommate, Bitch. It's my business," she added for good measure. Quinn smiled to herself and waited for Santana's next jibe.

Brittany's voice rang out, softly, instead, "Who's Berry?" Santana grinned like a Cheshire cat before turning to face her girlfriend.

"Some weirdo that goes to that music school," Brittany accepted the answer and curled further into the Latina. "She sings for the homeless people, Britts. Don't you remember that time we took the bus and you wanted to give the girl some money?"

"Oh yeah," Brittany shouted loudly. "I know her! Quinn, she's super nice." Quinn nodded awkwardly from her spot across the room before finally leaving the couple alone.

She turned the lamp on her desk on before grabbing her cell phone out of her pocket. She quickly sat down on the uncomfortable oak chair and ghosted through her contacts, smiling once she reached Rachel's name.

Quinn had been in several relationships. None of them challenged her emotionally and none of them did anything to her physically. Rachel was something else though. She smiled thinking about the crazy girl and hit the dial button.

She waited anxiously as the phone continued to ring. She prayed that the girl would answer because she had news that simply couldn't wait. "Hello," the brunette's cheery voice exclaimed from the other end of the line sending tingles throughout her body.

"Hey, Rach," she whispered. She wondered if Rachel felt the same way about her. She wondered if this would be the girl she settled down with. She just _wondered. _

"Yes, Quinn?"

An intake of breath, "What would you say if I said I thought I was in love with you?"


	3. Chapter 3

Guys, I suck at long updates so maybe if I just update quickly you all won't get mad for that lack of quantity.

To the few curious people: I don't know how I'm going to end the story :D You shouldn't worry about the ending until it gets there though, right?

I'll update again Monday! You guys have been incredible about reviewing though so I guess if it keeps it up I'll update over the weekend. You're all guilt tripping me.

Pointless author's note is over now so go read, enjoy(err. hopefully), and review!

* * *

She continued to tap lightly on her desk waiting for the brunette to say something-anything really. It wasn't every day that she, Quinn Fabray, professed her feelings to someone. "Rachel?" She continued to wait for the girl to show some sign of life.

"Yes, Quinn?" She scoffed at the short girl's antics before leaning forward in her chair and slapping her palm on the wooden desk before her despite the fact that Rachel couldn't see her. "Oh, that wasn't a rhetorical question. You actually want to know what I would say if you thought you were in love with me?"

"Well," the blonde waited a few seconds, "yeah."

"Oh," and then softly she heard it. "I'd say you were full of shit, Fabray." The line went dead. Quinn didn't try at all to fight the smile that threatened to take over her face.

"What a girl," she whistled.

* * *

"What kind of idiot claims to be in love after a couple of get togethers? Are you insane?" Rachel pulled a small piece of hair out of her eyes and rested it lightly behind her ear.

"This kind of idiot, I guess," Quinn replied. "I just kind of wanted to see what you'd say, I guess. It was a spur of the moment thing. If I ever fall in love with you though you'll be crazy about me in return. You'll see." Rachel rolled her eyes at the confidence of the blonde.

"Oh, whatever, Quinn. You're too smug for your own good." The blonde simply shrugged her shoulders, a cocky grin in place.

"I've never heard you sing," Quinn stated while taking a bite out of the burger in front of her. Rachel grimaced and tried not to think of the poor cows that died for the blonde to be able to eat. "You tell me you're the world's greatest and yet you won't sing for me. Santana said that you sing for the homeless people. Why won't you sing for me?"

"You make it sound as though you're offended that I won't," Rachel responded before taking a sip from her water. She took a bite from her salad and watched Quinn as she sat her elbow on the table and rested her jaw on the palm of her hand.

"Well, maybe I should be," Rachel rolled her eyes and continued eating much to Quinn's chagrin. "You'll have to find someone else to hang out with this weekend," she whispered while watching Rachel intently for any reaction.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"I have a date." The brunette's lower lip jutted out. Quinn fought the urge to reach over and kiss the girl senseless and instead took another bite out of her burger.

"With whom?" Quinn simply shrugged her shoulders while chugging back her Coke. "Seriously Quinn, what are you doing this weekend?"

"Lauren Williams," she stated with an air of indifference. She raised an eyebrow, challenging the brunette to say something else.

"Oh, I see," Rachel reached across the table and placed her hand gently on top of Quinn's. "Have fun playing Cornell, Baby." Quinn smiled knowing that Rachel had been reading the Crimson because of her.

"Have you been reading the sports pages, Rachel Berry?" It was incredible, Quinn realized, the way that the girl in front of her made her feel.

"I may have." She chewed her bottom lip before taking in a deep breath as though to prepare herself for a big speech. Despite the nerves in her stomach, Quinn waited with a calm face for whatever it was the girl was about to say. She only hoped that Rachel wasn't ending their romance already. "I wouldn't mind seeing you play this weekend though." She let out a sigh of relief before she even realized what had happened.

"No way, Rach," she chuckled. "You don't need to see that. It'll be a bloodbath, really. You think that nothing bad will happen since it's a bunch of girls but damn it if they don't try to kill someone simply because of that fact." She felt her chest swell with pride upon seeing Rachel frown at not being able to spend time with her.

"But you'll be careful, right?" Another score for Fabray, the blonde mused with excitement. She scooted her chair around the table so that she was sitting completely beside the brunette. She reached underneath the round table and grabbed Rachel's hand-giving it a gentle squeeze before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"I'll be careful," she promised.

* * *

"The hell is wrong with you," she shouted before going after Cornell's center, "fucking Canuck?" The towering center immediately threw her stick down before tackling Quinn to the ground, effectively introducing the fist to face meeting. She attempted to throw the girl off but a swarm of the other Cornell team came to their teammates aid leaving Quinn sorely outnumbered.

"Fabray, penalty: five minutes, fighting" the referee shouted. The blonde angrily skated to the visitor's side and eased herself into the penalty box.

"It's not my fault," she shouted to no one in particular. "How was I supposed to know there were four Canadians on the team?" She grumbled before Coach Grey stepped over with a towel.

"You got the shit beat out of your face, Fabray. If you're going to start a damn fight then at least win the thing," she shouted before throwing the towel at the blonde. Quinn groaned in frustration before using the flimsy thing to wipe the blood away from her face.

She was glad that Rachel wasn't there to see her like that. She was certain the girl would be lecturing her on tact and how to properly treat someone else while playing a sport. She laughed just thinking about the girl. Then again she would probably get a kick out of the fact that she had once again gotten her butt kicked.

She turned around slowly-freezing on the spot upon seeing a familiar set of eyes. The Harvard side of the coliseum was seemingly empty so it would be easy enough to spot a familiar face. She groaned before turning around, knowing what was in store for her once the match was over. Why had he showed up? Russell Fabray-the biggest asshole on the planet.

Her thoughts went back to Rachel. Maybe the girl would give Quinn's title as the most self-centered person to Russell Fabray if she were to ever actually meet the man. Quinn shuddered at the mere thought. She wanted to keep Rachel away from her family for as long as she possibly could.

She turned around once again to see that the man looked completely out of place. Harvard was about to lose the Ivy title and while the rest of the fans were crooning about it; her father was sitting stoically in place-as though he were being forced to be there. She was fairly certain that wasn't the case because she definitely had not invited him.

The crowd roared again forcing Quinn to turn away from the man she called her father to see that Cornell had scored once again.

They had lost.

They _would _lose the game that her father traveled to come see. He _had_ taken a day off from his busy schedule to come see his daughter play a game in which they lost and she got injured. She was certain she would never hear the end of it.

* * *

She was sitting in the small medical room having just gotten twelve stitches on the side of her face. She decided that it made her look slightly badass and that made it more than worth it. The doctor forbid her to play for a week and gave her a prescription for pain medication. She thanked him before heading out of the makeshift doctor's office. "You did a number on that cheek," one of the few Harvard fans stated upon passing by.

"Yeah," Quinn chuckled, pausing to run her fingers over the stitches. "At least I still got my looks though," she added with a wink. The redhead girl sent a flirty smile back causing a nauseous feeling to creep in. She didn't want to flirt with random girls anymore.

"You need a steak," a cold voice stated from behind. Quinn stiffened, recognizing the voice anywhere. She slowly turned around but averted her gaze.

"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "The doctor took care of it though," she finished lamely. "Besides, I don't have a black eye," she added.

"I meant to eat. You're too skinny." He attempted to give her a hug despite the fact that neither one of them were particularly into it.

Dinner was completely awkward. She wanted to pull her phone out and text the tiny diva that invaded her thoughts but knew better than to do such a thing. Her father would have spoken out about her table manners. Instead they opted for a conversation, a conversation that seemed more fitting for strangers than actual family. "How have you been" and "Is there anything I can do for you?" were the most commonly asked questions which loosely translated to, "Have you gotten in trouble and do you need my money to fix something?"

"Does your face still hurt?" He questioned while pointing to her cheek. Truthfully it did. She didn't want to give her father a reason to stay and talk longer though. She simply wanted to get back to her hotel room where she was going to make an important phone call to her brunette.

"No, not really," she lied in hopes that the older man would drop it. She knew how her father was though…

"I'll get Dr. Peterson to look at it Monday," Russell offered with his attempt of a smile.

Quinn frowned. "That's alright. Cornell's doctor fixed me up." Russell's smile became tighter lipped. He took a bite out of his steak before looking back at Quinn. He waved his fork around as though he were some sort of symphony director. She wanted to tell him to quit looking so incredibly stupid but thought better of it.

"Peterson is a specialist though," he added with fervor.

"As opposed to what, Father," Quinn asked, her voice rose slightly. "I think the Cornell doctor was more than qualified."

The rest of the meal was spent in silence until Russell breached a topic Quinn was looking forward to avoiding. "Have you heard from Law School?" The blonde twirled the spaghetti noodles around on her plate willing the world to swallow her.

"No sir," she replied. "I haven't really decided if Law School was for me." She watched as his face melted into the stony grimace she was familiar with.

"I was just asking you if Law School decided that it was for you." The blonde arched an eyebrow unsure of what to say to the man. "Do I need to contact Zimmerman? I can put in a good word for you. I'm sure you're going to get in."

"No sir," she replied quietly. "I want to get my letter with everyone else."

"But you aren't everyone else," he grunted before stabbing a piece of meat. "You're a Fabray and we're better than everyone else. You know that, Quinn. But fine, I'll play by your rules." She let her fork drop causing a loud clang to reverberate. "Baby, I don't think you understand how things work for us. We always get what we want, and we want the finer things. You'll marry the wealthiest person out there, get a great job, and just be happy." Quinn resisted the familiar pull to roll her eyes. Her father sensed that he might have crossed a line and added a quick, "but you can wait to get your letter with the rest of them. It'll make the others feel less intimidated by you."

"Thank you," she took a small bite out of the spaghetti before reaching for her water.

"It isn't like we have a doubt about you getting in. We both know you're going to be going to Harvard Law just like the rest of us," he smiled his polished smile as though it were some grand welcoming to the 'Fabray Law Club.'

"Well, it isn't like they have a hockey team," Quinn replied with a small chuckle. She didn't know why she said it. She wanted their dinner date to be over with as soon as possible and here she was saying things to cause the man to ramble on for hours on end. Russell cleared his throat.

"You have other nice qualities," he trailed off. The blonde was tempted to ask him to name some simply because she knew Russell wouldn't be able to. She felt the phone in her pocket vibrate. She pulled it out against her father's wishes just in case it was some sort of emergency….or Rachel.

**I don't know why, but I miss you. Xx**

She smiled. With one small message the brunette had made the entire night bearable.

At ten thirty she walked the older man to his car. "Is there anything I can do for you, Quinnie?"

"No sir," she replied, hoping that the man would simply leave already. "Goodnight," she added for good measure. The man nodded before slipping into his car and driving off. The fact that he had driven so many hours to see her didn't do much to make her feel loved. He wasn't a caring father offering support to his child. He was a businessman trying to work on a future investment.

The blonde quickly made her way back to her hotel and pulled out the cell phone. She dialed Rachel's number and immediately the brunette picked up. "Hello," she questioned.

"Hey," Quinn replied while getting underneath the covers. "How is Boston?" Quinn could practically see the girl rolling her eyes. "I meant, how are you?"

"I was doing great until some creeper called me."

Quinn chuckled, "Oh yeah? Anything I can do to get rid of them?"

"Mmm, I don't think so," Rachel replied. "I think she's sticking around for a while." A while. Quinn really liked the sound of that. She'd never stuck around for anyone. She'd never found anyone worth sticking around for.

"I think so, too." It was silent for a moment. "I got into a fight."

"Quinn Fabray," she shrieked, "did you get hurt?"

"Not terribly," she replied. "A few stitches to the face. You won't shun me, will you?" She heard the other girl's soft laughter; it was music to her ears.

"Of course not. If looks were a problem then I wouldn't have spoken to you to begin with." The blonde clutched her chest in mock pain despite the fact that Rachel wasn't there. The brunette's flair for dramatics was rubbing off apparently.

"Ouch," she whispered.

"You're beautiful, Quinn," she whispered full of sincerity. Quinn felt tears prick at her eyes and willed Rachel to change the conversation and as though she were psychic Rachel did. "Well, did you at least knock that bitch out?" For the first time that day she laughed. She realized that she had been doing an awful lot of it since Rachel had entered her life.

"Of course I did, Rachel. Do you not know me at all?" Rachel's laughter surrounded her-almost like a lullaby.

"I wish I could have seen it though," she whined causing Quinn to break out fully into giggles loud enough to cause the people next door to bang on the walls. "Maybe you'll get into another one at the Yale game though, right?" She asked with excitement.

"Maybe," Quinn replied. She admired that the brunette loved the simple things in life. "Hey, Rachel?"

"Hmm?"

"My father was at the game." She knew that Rachel wouldn't know what to make of it. "The entire time he was pressuring me about law. Sometimes I want to punch the old man in the face and then just leave him there."

"I don't really know what you expected him to talk to you about though, Quinn." The blonde sighed. She simply wanted someone to talk to. "He wants you to go to law school, is that it? Isn't that what you want?" She felt like screaming at the blind girl-that no, it wasn't what she wanted. "Was he supposed to ask you about your sex life?"

"You're supposed to be on my side, Rachel-not his. You're my girlfriend after all." The line was silent. Had she actually said that out loud? She tried to run over lines in her head of things she could say to make Rachel believe she hadn't meant it. They had never really had a talk making them "official" but she knew deep down that she was fully committed to being with Rachel Berry-label or not.

"I didn't know there were sides," she replied. Quinn's face once again broke out into a shit eating grin. She jumped up from her position and bounced happily on the bed ignoring the screams from the people in the room beside her. "Quinn, what are you doing?" Rachel asked with amusement.

"Nothing," she replied slightly out of breath. She eased herself under the covers and smiled. The only thing that could have made that night better would have been being able to hold a feisty brunette in her arms. "Hey, Rachel?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you sing me a song?" A beat of silence and then an intake of breath was all Quinn heard.

"Sure," a vulnerable voice came from the other line.

That night she fell asleep to the sounds of her girlfriend lulling her to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

You guys need to stop being so nice. I get all of these emails alerting me about my reviews and stuff and I'm all, "Oh crap-I need to go write a new chapter for them." :P Of course it does help that I'm out for Spring Break. School picks back up Monday so I'm not sure the updates will be as frequent then.

**Disclaimer: I clearly don't own anything in this story!

* * *

**

"Rachel's on the phone," a young lady stated who was sitting on the couch of the lobby. Quinn nodded before walking over to a vacant chair and sitting herself down. She was in Hemenway Hall for the date she had with the brunette, but she wasn't sure how the girl in front of her knew that. "Too bad about Cornell," she added before flipping a page of her torn book.

Quinn chuckled. So that's how she knew who she was. She kept up with sports. She still didn't understand how the girl knew she was there for Rachel though. Unless of course Rachel had been telling people they were dating. The thought alone brought a smile to her face. "Is Rachel off the phone yet?" She asked several awkward minutes later. The redhead titled her head backwards and looked down a narrow hallway.

"Nope." She burst a bubble from the gum she had been chewing before looking the blonde over. "She usually talks to him for a while though.

An odd sensation arose within the blonde. She didn't know who Rachel could possibly be talking to. It was obvious that she wasn't talking to Quinn and that alone made the blonde upset. She was probably talking to some music freak about things that Quinn couldn't understand. Worse than that, she was probably complaining about how Quinn only talked about herself and things that the diva had no interest in. Fear began to creep into the corners of her mind. Rachel was probably complaining to whomever she was talking to about Quinn and the douche on the other end of the line was probably talking her into breaking up with the blonde.

She jumped out of her chair and watched as the redhead bit back a smile. "Where is the phone?" The redhead, whose name she still didn't know, pointed towards the hallway she had previously been looking down. Quinn nodded before quickly walking over. She spotted the brunette at the end, head tilted back in laughter. Quinn clenched her fist tightly the closer she got to Rachel.

"Noah, don't be silly," she heard the petite girl gush before her melodious laughter filtered through the hallway. "Uh huh," she added while nodding her head. Quinn stepped forward casually hoping that the girl would see her, slam the old phone down, and rush into her arms. "I love you, too," she replied with a small smile on her lips. "Stop being so stupid. Of course I haven't found someone to replace you. You hold the biggest piece of my heart. Yes, you're still my Jewbro. I'll try and find a girl, but none have really caught my eye." A pause. "I know you do, Noah. I miss you so much," her voice cracked. "Okay. Love you."

Quinn saw red. Who the hell was Rachel telling that to? Who was 'Noah'?" She had only been gone 48 hours and Rachel had already moved on. Why would she be trying to find a girl when she had Quinn? Did Quinn really not catch her eye? Upon hanging up she turned around and squeaked upon seeing Quinn standing there. The blonde scoffed-how could she be so insensitive and two-faced? Clearly she hadn't known that Quinn had caught her declaring her love for that Noah person.

Rachel leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "You don't look too good," Rachel stated much to Quinn's dismay. They hadn't seen each other in two days and that was how Rachel chose to greet her? She fought the urge to slap the girl in the face and simply took her hand and began walking back towards the lobby.

"Thanks," Quinn replied sarcastically. She waved at the redhead who was still perched on the couch reading her book.

"Goodnight, Sarah," Rachel called out before pushing the door open-leading Quinn into the cold night.

Quinn walked the girl to her car and began to open the passenger door before turning around to look at Rachel. She took in a deep breath of the chilly air and tried to play herself off as casually as possible, "Hey, Rachel," she trailed off waiting a response.

"Yes, Quinn?" The brunette looked at her innocently through her long eyelashes. Quinn sighed-the girl in front of her knew how to win the blonde over, that was certain.

"Who is Noah?" Rachel nodded before stepping into the car-leaving Quinn standing alone. The blonde dashed over to the driver's side and jumped in before starting the machine and letting the heat take over them.

"He's my best friend," she stated as though she hadn't just been telling said best friend that she loved him. Quinn gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"You tell your best friend that you love him?"

"Of course. Don't you tell yours that?" Quinn sighed. She didn't really have a best friend. The closest thing she had to one was Santana Lopez, and that relationship was too hard to explain.

"No," she replied honestly. "Did you ever date this guy?" She questioned, hoping that the girl couldn't pick up on her worry. Rachel sighed and played with the loose strings of her jacket. "Rachel, come on, it's not like I'm asking you to donate a kidney or something."

"I did," she whispered, "date him, I mean," she clarified. "We dated in high school, but we worked better off as friends. He's an amazing guy. You'd love him, Quinn." She snorted. There was no way in hell that she would like some guy claiming to _just be friends _with Rachel.

"Then why did you say you were looking for a girl?" She clamped her hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to say anything about that. She didn't want Rachel thinking that she was insecure. Rachel's nose crinkled as she ran over her conversation with Noah in her mind. Her eyes lit up and she began to laugh loudly.

"I meant that I was looking for a girl for him. I said that none of them had caught my eye." She waited a few seconds. "Well, truthfully I suppose that any girl would do for him."

"Yeah," she lamely replied before putting the car in drive, "whatever." She was almost certain that what she was feeling was jealousy, but Quinn Fabray did not do jealous.

Except when it came to Rachel Berry.

* * *

"So, how was your father?"

"He was alive," Quinn replied. She still wasn't in the best mood after having her conversation with Rachel about Noah-or _Puck, _as she had learned his nickname was. Rachel nodded while playing with the necklace around her neck. She eyed the thing curiously. She had, on some occasions when Rachel's shirt was low enough, seen the necklace but never thought to ask about it.

"You don't have much to say about him." Quinn stiffened. She simply wanted to have a normal date without the topics of her father or worse-ex boyfriends.

"I don't really think of him as my father," she replied honestly with a shrug. "He's just more or less there." Rachel rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Look, we didn't all grow up with a loving little family, alright? I get that you had your fathers' support and undying love, but for some of us all we get are 'you know that isn't good enough.'"

"Don't mock me," Rachel whispered, unshed tears in her eyes.

"I'm not mocking you," Quinn replied softly in an attempt to keep her anger in check. "I know that you and your dads have a great relationship though. You can't help me for getting upset that you're trying to side with my father continuously simply because you don't understand the logistics of my relationship with that man."

"That isn't what I'm doing at all, Quinn," Rachel reached over to grab the blonde's hand. Quinn quickly moved her hand away to grab a drink-hoping that Rachel hadn't known she deflected on purpose. The fleeting look of pain on her girl's face told her otherwise though.

"Fine," Rachel whispered before plastering a smile on her face. "What is it that you call him then if not a father?"

"Son of a bitch," Quinn replied easily with a smile. Rachel shook her head in amusement, trying hard to suppress her giggles.

"I can't imagine that you call him that to his face, Baby," Quinn shrugged her shoulders. "Then again you never know. I hope that you at least have the common courtesy to smile when you use such a name." Quinn snorted in disbelief-how had she been so lucky as to snag a girl like Rachel Berry? Well, she'd never know. "He must be proud of you though. You're this intelligent jock after all."

"So was he."

"Bigger than All-Ivy wing though?" She asked proudly. It made Quinn's heart swell that Rachel knew all of her athletic credentials. It kind of felt like Rachel was proud of her in some sort of way.

"Of course," Quinn replied with a frown. It didn't matter that Quinn was a girl. Her father expected her to be as strong as he was physically and as smart as he was mentally. "My father tends to make me do things that I honestly cannot stand."

"Like what, Quinn?"

"You know," Quinn replied before taking a bite out of the breadsticks they had brought out as an appetizer, "stuff." Rachel looked un-amused. "The 'right things,' Rach." The brunette took a sip from her wine and nodded.

"That's not a bad thing though, is it?" Quinn sighed. She had spent her entire life refusing to talk about her family life and here she was, spilling every single detail for the Broadway ridden diva.

"The Fabray's have this family tradition;" Quinn tried, "that we're like programmed to do. We spend our childhood being trained to be these unstoppable monsters. Once we hit college we cheat our way to the top. Our legacy provides us this leeway to get things..."

"Oh yeah," Rachel rolled her eyes, "because it's so easy getting all A's while being All-Ivy."

"But he expects no less from me," Quinn shouted, earning a few stares from the people around them. "Of course when I actually come through he acts like it means nothing. He wants me to work hard but when I do he refuses to tell me I've done well." Rachel smiled sadly. "He takes me for granted."

"I'm sure he's just incredibly busy though," Rachel tried. That was the last straw for the blonde, however. Angry, she threw her napkin at the table and scooted the chair out. "Where are you going?" Rachel spat in humiliation.

"Perhaps you can have dinner with my father, Rachel," Quinn shouted, "you seem to be completely on his side with everything I've been telling you. _I'm _your girlfriend. Why aren't you supporting me?"

"I wasn't aware that this was some sort of war that required sides, "Rachel replied before grabbing the girl's wrist and pulling her back down. "Please sit down."

"Of course it's a war, Rachel. You don't understand this man," Quinn explained, tired from their bickering. "We sound like an old married couple," Quinn grumbled.

"Don't be ridiculous," Rachel interrupted. The waiter came over and took their orders, leaving them in an awkward silence. "He traveled hours to see you play in a lousy game," Rachel added, seemingly from nowhere."

"Let's just not talk about it, Rachel," Quinn tried again.

"At least you have issues with something. I was beginning to think that you had it all figured out." Quinn sighed-that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, she was fairly certain that she had enough baggage to last a lifetime. She only hoped that Rachel would be able to put up with it all. "It just means you aren't perfect, Quinn," Rachel whispered before reaching out to grab her hand again.

"Does that mean that you are?" A gleam appeared in Rachel's eyes-a twinkle that Quinn had grown to love.

"Definitely not, Fabray. If I were perfect then I certainly would not be going on dates with you." The blonde shook her head in disbelief, the smile on her face so wide she was certain her face would break.

"Rachel, you really know how to make a girl feel special," sarcasm laced every single word.

"I would imagine so, Quinn," she replied honestly.

* * *

"I had fun tonight," Rachel whispered once Quinn had brought her back to her hall. The car was still running; they were simply spending as much time together as they possible could. "I really did, Quinn. I feel as though I've learned so much about you."

"Oh yeah," she scoffed, "like what?" Rachel brought her index finger to her chin and tapped it lightly before sending the blonde a wink.

"I've learned that you think your father is an ass." Quinn nodded-it was true. "I've learned that you dislike pineapples."

"The waiter should have asked me if I wanted pineapples on the damn chicken. It isn't my fault," she explained but to no avail. Rachel simply ducked her head and giggled slightly. "I learned that you used to get around."

"I never said that," Quinn whispered-not liking the direction their conversation was headed. "We haven't talked about my past romantically at all. What made you think that?"

"It seems that all of my friends know of the great Quinn Fabray. It appears as though she loves to chase girls around, have crazy sex, and then drop them without even saying goodbye." She cocked her head to the side and smiled. "They didn't believe it when I said that we hadn't so much as moved past chaste kisses."

"Right," Quinn replied while drumming on the steering wheel. "What are you trying to say? You want to end this?"

"No," she replied. "I kind of like you. You're growing on me. I don't know if you're just lying to me to get into my pants or if you're sincere with your attempts at dating me." Quinn's jaw dropped. Sure, she had taken part in several drunken hook ups, but that didn't mean that this was how she felt about Rachel. She was actually pretty certain that Rachel was different than everyone else in the whole damn world.

"Rachel, you know this isn't about hooks up or I would have already given up on this. I like you." The brunette leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

"I know you do, Preppie," she replied before opening her door to get out. Quinn pulled her back inside and laughed at the look of confusion on the brunette's face.

"Next weekend let's take a trip." Rachel said nothing. "I was thinking about how much you always talk about New York and Broadway and stuff. I figured that we could go see one of those shows? Just spend the weekend together away from here." She immediately began to panic upon seeing Rachel's face scrunch up.

"I'm not sure that I have the money to make that trip." Quinn sighed. If she offered to pay for it then she was certain Rachel would assume she was just trying to throw her money out there. She really wanted to be able to do something special for the girl. She wanted to be able to spend an entire weekend just getting to know each other in ways that they weren't able to then.

"That's alright, Rachel. Just, you know, let me handle it. It can be a birthday gift, you know?" Rachel beamed before reaching over and cupping her cheek. She ran her fingers delicately over the smooth skin before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Is that a yes?"

"Well, if that's a no wouldn't you like to know what a yes is?" Yes, Quinn mused, yes she would. "This weekend you're all mine, Fabray," she purred before shutting the door and running up the stairs to Hemenway.

Quinn spent the short drive back to Cambridge in a Rachel Berry induced haze. That girl had Quinn working every which way to get their relationship to work and it was driving her insane; yet she was 100 percent positive that she'd rather be insane because of Rachel Berry than sane without that girl being in her life.

She pulled into the dorm parking lot and happily made her way into the building before a certain thought entered her mind. Her amazing mood instantly changed.

She had a nosy roommate. This nosy roommate was used to getting details out of Quinn-details that had stopped coming in once Rachel Berry had made herself a permanent fixture in Quinn's life.

She eased herself into her room only to find that Santana wasn't in bed. Thankful that their conversation could be put off a little while longer, she changed into pajamas and got ready for bed.

Upon sliding under the covers she pulled out her cell phone to send a quick text.

**Goodnight, Rach. I miss you. Is that cheesy?**

The response was almost immediate.

_**I like vegan cheese.**_

Quinn giggled beneath the covers.

_**I also like Quinn Fabray. I'm looking forward to this weekend. :) **_

**Me too. Go to sleep, babe. I know you have a test in the morning. Kick ass on it. Sweet dreams.**

She felt her eyes growing heavy. She was ready for sleep to envelope her but she wanted one last message from her girl.

She was almost out of it when the vibrating of her phone jarred her awake.

_**Only if they are of you. Night.**_

She smiled and rolled over before succumbing to sleep and dreams of a brown eyed beauty.


	5. Chapter 5

So this chapter kind of sucks. On the bright side at least it can only get better? :P

Shout out to Cassicio for some ideas. I kind of suck at creativity when it comes to New York City since I live... so not in New York City. Ha. I ended up just kind of...not giving many details so again: this chapter isn't all that awesome.

But I do want to say thanks to the readers. You guys kick ass. And I mean that. :D

* * *

Quinn dug through her drawers and pulled out various articles of clothing. She had text Rachel and informed her that she would be picking her up within the next half hour. That wasn't the smartest of plans seeing that she herself hadn't packed yet.

She was more than excited to get to spend the weekend with Rachel. She couldn't have asked for a more perfect thing for the two of them; however, she was starting to get worried.

Whereas their emotional relationship was amazing-the physical was not. It wasn't that they lacked sparks. Quinn was certain she saw more fireworks upon kissing Rachel than she ever had on a fourth of July, but they never did anything significant. They shared small kisses and cuddled, both of which were things Quinn loved a great deal, but Quinn was known as being a rather impatient and quick to get what she wanted.

She had been dating Rachel for three. Sure, it didn't seem like a long time, but it was three weeks longer than any relationship she had ever had.

And Quinn had no idea what to do.

She knew how to be suave and romantic, but Rachel was different. She was afraid that anything she might try would offend the brunette or worse: make her laugh. She however had her fair share of one night stands and hook-ups. Rachel made her feel different though; she just didn't know what to say about it. She didn't know who she could ask about it either.

She couldn't ask Rachel about her feelings simply because it would either a) scare the girl away or b) make her furious for never having been in a committed relationship. She couldn't ask Santana because, well, it was Santana.

She was screwed. And trying to figure out where the romantic relationship was going over their weekend together? It was going to suck.

* * *

"You look great, Rach. I told you to just dress comfortably though. The drive isn't the most comfy thing." Rachel smiled and shrugged her shoulders before throwing her suitcase in the backseat of Quinn's car. "Trunks are around for a reason," she deadpanned.

"Oh well," Rachel replied with an air of indifference. Quinn rolled her eyes before shutting the passenger door for the brunette and letting herself inside the car.

"Are you sure that you're ready? You aren't forgetting anything?" Rachel rolled her eyes before reaching for the seatbelt and buckling up. "I just don't want this trip to suck for you," she whispered before shifting the car into drive. Rachel smiled, reaching over to cover the blonde's hand with her own.

The drive was mostly uneventful. Quinn refused to turn the radio on-instead requiring that Rachel sing for her. When the brunette got tired of singing she asked Quinn to tell her secrets that no one else knew. All in all Quinn was certain that this trip was already shaping up to be one of the best of her life.

"That lady didn't have to offer you her telephone number though," Rachel whined. "She was acting as though I weren't standing right there." Quinn chuckled before placing a tender kiss to her cheek. She pulled the keycard out and opened the door before allowing Rachel inside.

"It's not like she knew you were my girlfriend, Rach. Well, she didn't until you kindly explained that you were," Quinn finished, biting her lip in an attempt to not laugh at her girlfriend's antics. "Rachel?" She questioned after several moments passed without the brunette saying anything. "What's wrong?"

"There's only one bed," she stated.

"Well, yeah… I mean, I figured we would end up sleeping together anyway." The brunette turned around, jaw dropped and a blush moving from her face down her neck. "Oh God, not like that," Quinn shrieked upon realizing what Rachel had thought. "I just wanted to be able to cuddle," she whined. "We take naps together all the time! I just want to be able to go to sleep at night with you in my arms and then wake up the next day with you still there."

"Be still my heart, Quinn Fabray," Rachel mocked in a southern accent before pushing the girl aggressively down on the bed and climbing on top of her. "Hi," she whispered. Quinn said nothing-not trusting her voice in that moment. "I look forward to sleeping with you," she rasped before jumping off of the girl and rushing to the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower, Baby," she laughed before slamming the door.

"That tease," Quinn grumbled before reaching for the remote and flipping the TV on. Nothing was on, as usual. She ignored the growling of her stomach and rolled over onto her stomach. If Rachel was going to take a twenty hour shower then the blonde was taking a nap.

She didn't anticipate waking up to a wet Rachel Berry scooping in behind her in some cruel attempt of being a big spoon. "Rachel, you're soaking wet," Quinn shouted from her sleep-induced haze.

"You have no idea," she whispered huskily into her ear, successfully awakening the blonde. The thing with Rachel, Quinn had grown to realize, was that you could never tell if she was being naïve with her banters or if she knew that she wasn't being some innocent girl. Either way it drove Quinn crazy. The blonde rolled over to see Rachel lying there clad only in a towel. It may have been big enough to cover her, but it still left Quinn in a state of arousal.

"Oh my God, Rachel, put clothes on," she shrieked before jumping back and efficiently falling off the bed. Quinn groaned knowing that Rachel would forever use this as means to tease her.

"Why, I simply wanted to take you up on that offering of cuddling," she stuck her bottom lip out. Quinn slowly pulled herself off the ground.

"I'm hungry," she stammered before looking every which way but the girl lying on their bed. "I'm going to go eat out now." Her cheeks flared as Rachel's eyes widened comically. "At a restaurant, I mean," she added before stumbling out of the room.

* * *

"I brought you some zucchini and eggplant rigatoni," Quinn whispered while shaking a bag she was holding. Rachel smiled and patted the spot on the bed beside her. "I'm sorry I ran away earlier."

"It's quite alright, Quinn," Rachel replied before reaching her hands out for the bag. "I'm surprised you actually got something I could eat."

"It's easier to take a taxi so I just told the man to take me to the best vegan place he knew of," she admitted sheepishly. It was completely worth it to see the smile on Rachel's face. "If you like this then we can go eat there tomorrow." Rachel nodded before opening the to-go box and taking a bite. She moaned loudly. "It's good?" A nod. "Alright well, I'm going to go shower while you eat," she added before reaching over and pressing a kiss to the brunette's cheek.

Once she was in the shower beneath the warm water Quinn finally relaxed. Rachel Berry oozed sexy without even trying. She still wasn't sure how she was going to manage spending the weekend in such close confines with the girl, but she was excited nonetheless. She shampooed her hair, opting to use Rachel's since the night the brunette had scolded her for her lack of using "animal friendly" hygiene products.

After the shower she towel dried herself before a thought struck her. Rachel had no qualms about prancing around in a towel earlier. Perhaps she could successfully repay the favor. She smirked before throwing the bathroom door open and strutting out into their room. She immediately felt Rachel's burning through her. "Are you alright?" She questioned with mock innocence upon hearing the girl beginning to choke on her food.

"You just," she cleared her throat, "startled me. I didn't expect you to be done so soon." Quinn snorted-was the brunette deaf? Had she not heard the shower turn off.? "It's chilly. You don't want to catch cold, Quinn," Rachel rambled before throwing herself into her food. She twirled her fork around and studied it as though Barbra Streisand were sitting in the container of food.

Quinn bent over slowly to shuffle through her suitcase. She pulled out an old t-shirt to throw on before reaching for a hairbrush and other necessary items. She eased the lacy panties she had grabbed, up underneath the towel before dropping said item. She felt incredible insecure standing in front of Rachel in nothing but a thong practically, but she wasn't going to let the brunette know that. She eased an extra-large t-shirt overhead before turning around to skip over to the bead. "Rachel, what are you doing?" she questioned while holding back a smirk. "You have sauce all over your face."

"How embarrassing," Rachel muttered before reaching for the napkin in her lap. "That dish was very lovely, Quinn. Thank you so much for getting it for me," she added, hoping to change the subject. She eased out of the bed and took the box over to the trashcan. She rushed back over and jumped in the bed, giggling when she rolled over into Quinn's side.

"You're kind of adorable, Rachel." Rachel smiled and in that moment Quinn realized that it was probably one of her favorite things about the girl. Of course her eyes were pretty amazing as well. You could look into them and know exactly what the brunette was feeling. Then again, Quinn mused, Rachel's hair was lustrous. She loved being able to run her fingers through the silky locks. Damn it if her petite stature wasn't something she adored as well. Rachel was the perfect height-she fit incredible into Quinn whenever they would hug of cuddle. "You really are," she whispered, voice raw with emotion.

"You're something else yourself," Rachel replied before rolling away from the blonde despite her protests. "Get up. I'm cold and want under the covers."

"But we were finally getting to cuddle," Quinn whimpered.

"I said I was cold," Rachel stated. "I want my super wonderful girlfriend to hold me," she smiled softly before pulling the covers back and settling comfortably in the bed. Quinn immediately followed suit before scooting in near Rachel so that her front was pressed flush against the brunette's back. She wrapped her arms around the girl and sighed in content. "Good night, Quinn," she whispered.

"Night, Baby," she replied.

* * *

"So this is where you're going to be living someday, huh," stated Quinn. Rachel noted that the blonde wasn't questioning her but rather stating the obvious. "I think that could work. My rich girlfriend can pay for me to fly out to visit her." They were walking down 41st Street, hand in hand. Quinn watched in amazement as her girlfriend's face would light up as they passed various theatres and such.

"Well, she'll be making good money so I'm sure she can pay for herself to go visit." Quinn nodded her head. "Though, why wouldn't she be living with me?"

"I don't know, Rachel," she replied before pulling the girl into her side and wrapping an arm around her waist. "I really don't know. A lot of things, I guess." Rachel nodded but said nothing else. "Maybe she'll have a job somewhere across the country. Or maybe she just doesn't like New York."

"Do you not like New York?" Quinn chuckled.

"I thought we were talking about your rich girlfriend. What do I have to do with that?" Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Nothing," she replied before pulling out of Quinn's embrace and running down the sidewalk. Quinn gawked as the people walking by gave Rachel odd looks. "I'm going to a show. Are you coming?" Quinn simply laughed before chasing after the brunette.

"What are we going to be seeing today, Miss Berry?" The blonde wasn't exactly very knowledgeable when it came to musical theatre. She had never actually been able to sit through a musical that she actually enjoyed so she only prayed that Rachel didn't drag her to some horrible show.

"There are plenty of shows to choose from, Quinn," Rachel lamented, "but I'm fairly certain that I would enjoy seeing a classic. I don't want to use my free ticket on something absurd." Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"Who said the ticket was going to be free?" Rachel giggled before attacking Quinn's lips with vigor.

"I did. You will be paying," the diva clarified. Quinn simply nodded, mega-watt smile plastered on her face.

* * *

Quinn threw herself down on the bed. She had been exhausted. After an entire day of running around the city with a girl reminiscent of a toddler she was worn out. They had gone to see Les Mis during which Rachel explained she had been in an amateur production playing Young Cosette. After the performance they went to grab a bite. Rachel thought it would be fit to then explain each and every single individual reason for why being a vegan was a more suitable lifestyle for her than being a vegetarian.

Needless to say the blonde was tired and ready to go to sleep. They had to wake up early the next morning for the drive back and she simply wanted to rest the night before. "Are you alright, Quinn?" Rachel called out from behind her. She mumbled into the bedspread much to Rachel's horror. "Are you suffocating? Can you breathe?" She shrieked.

"God Rachel, I'm fine," Quinn shouted once she pulled away. She stood up and ripped the blouse she was wearing off before tugging her jeans down. She was too lazy to walk across the room for pajamas so she opted for simply throwing herself back into the bed.

She felt the bed dip beside her. She rolled over to see Rachel in one of the sweatshirts Quinn had given her. She internally swooned at the brunette and watched as she began to read some book. "What are you doing?"

"I'm studying. I have a test Monday." Quinn paled.

"Oh crap, oh crap, so do I," the blonde shouted before jumping out of the bed and running over to her duffel bag. She pulled out a paperback book and ran back to the bed before plowing into it. "So much for sleeping," she grumbled under her breath.

She tried to read some of the damn book, she did. It wasn't her fault that Rachel was cuddled into her side in nothing but a sweatshirt. "I think that someone is going to flunk out if they just sit there watching me study," Rachel's voice interrupted her.

"I'm offended," Quinn scoffed before flipping a page in her book-not that she had actually read the page to begin with. "I'm not watching you study. I'm studying."

"That's not true, Quinn. I pride myself on having perfect eyesight. My perfect eyesight is telling me that you're looking at my legs-not your book." Quinn blushed. She had been caught.

"Yeah but only every now and then. I just sneak a peek in the beginning of every chapter." Rachel snorted before setting her book down and looking at Quinn in disbelief.

"Once in a while?" She scoffed. "That book must have very short chapters. Very short," she whispered with a cocky grin. Quinn groaned before pushing the brunette out of her embrace. Rachel laughed quietly before picking the book back up.

"Listen up, Miss I'm Obsessed With Myself, you're incredibly narcissistic for someone who isn't even that good looking." After the words left her mouth she felt guilty. She was always going to have problem holding back her less _nice _thoughts.

"I know that," she admitted quietly. "Can I really help it if you think so though?" Quinn swallowed thickly. She did-she thought Rachel was the most attractive thing on the face of the entire planet. She had always thought clichés like that were incredibly stupid but at the moment she was having a hard time trying to find the ignorance in them.

"I can't read John Stuart Mill," Quinn whispered huskily before throwing her book across the room. Rachel's eyes widened as she frowned. "How can I when every single second I'm around you I'm just dying to make love to you?"

She honestly hadn't meant to say it. She clasped her hand over her mouth and waited for Rachel's dialogue on the inappropriateness of her previous statement. "Rachel, I'm so sorry," Quinn stated. Rachel gently dropped her book to the floor and cupped Quinn's neck softly.

"Quinn?" The blonde met her eyes. "Do you think you could?" She pulled the blonde into her just barely pressing their lips together. Quinn shifted lightly so that she was straddling the brunette. She reattached their lips, relishing in the softness of the kiss. She sneaked her tongue out and ran it along Rachel's bottom lip.

The brunette moaned softly giving Quinn the perfect opportunity to enter Rachel's warm mouth. Her tongue explored everything that was her girlfriend. She whimpered lightly when the shorter girl's tongue began to join hers in a dance that was simply theirs.

When air became a necessity Quinn regretfully pulled away but not before biting down on her girlfriend's plump lip and sucking lightly. Her pants and mewls were spurring the blonde on. She had known that Rachel's voice was the most beautiful sound in the world, but the brown eyed girl's whimpers and groans were definitely a close second.

She peppered kisses down the diva's neck, sucking lightly on a particular spot that she found Rachel enjoyed. Her hands which had somehow been idle began to sneak their way underneath her sweatshirt. She marveled at the soft flesh she was touching delicately before inching her hands slowly up towards her breasts. "Quinn," Rachel panted out. The blonde worried that she was pushing the brunette too far. She pulled away to see Rachel's eyes black with lust. The brunette sat up before removing her sweatshirt.

Quinn hadn't known how long she had simply been staring, but Rachel's instinct to cover her bare chest brought her out of her thoughts. Quinn smiled lovingly before pushing Rachel's hands out of the way and lowering herself back down on the brunette's body. She continued her assault on her girlfriend's neck before using her hands to gently squeeze her breasts. Rachel moaned and arched her back into the blonde's warm hand. "Please," she whispered. Quinn smirked before trailing her kisses lower. She took a pert nipple into her mouth and sucked lightly reveling in the quivering mess she was reducing her girlfriend to.

She paid equal attention to the other breast before trailing her hands down to the hem of her lacy panties. "Are you okay?" She questioned one last time. Rachel simply nodded. Quinn smiled before removing the garment and staring wantonly at the sight before her.

She claimed Rachel's lips with hers while her finger gathered moisture from Rachel's entrance. She lightly moved her finger up and down the girl's slit before circling her nub. She swallowed a moan as Rachel shuddered. "You're so beautiful," she whispered into the brunette's ear before entering her with one digit.

"Quinn," Rachel whimpered as the blonde began to thrust at a leisurely pace. She marveled at how amazing Rachel felt. She was warm and wet and just perfect. The blonde sped her movements up before encasing her lips around a dark nipple. The diva gasped at the sensation urging Quinn to move faster.

Her thumb brushed over Rachel's clit before she entered another finger. The brunette's hips jerked at the intrusion but she continued to move against Quinn. The blonde peered up at her lover through hooded eyes and nearly combusts at the sight alone. Rachel's skin is flushed, hair matted to her forehead, and bottom lip gnawed at between her teeth. And it is the sexiest thing Quinn has ever seen.

She curled her fingers in hopes that it brings Rachel closer to the edge. The brunette moaned loudly, meeting Quinn thrust for thrust. Whispers of "close" and "please" began to muddle together until a final cry is heard from the brunette. She fell back against the pillows before clutching at the blonde. Quinn made her way up to the head of the bed and wrapped the covers around them.

"I want to return to favor," Rachel mumbled sleepily. Quinn sighed in contentment before pressing a kiss against the brunette's sweaty temple.

"I just want to cuddle," Quinn replied. "Besides we can do that all of the time," she added with a chuckle.

Quinn watched as Rachel curled herself into the blonde and let out a breath of air. She realized that their first time making love was the complete opposite as their first verbal encounter. They had been rude to each other and brash. They were hurried and did everything with haste. Making love to Rachel had been nothing but soft touches-full of nothing but love and gentleness.

It was then that Quinn also realized that Rachel was, underneath all of her bravado, a vulnerable girl. She used her witty banter to just keep people at bay from her true feelings. Of course that had also been the first time Quinn had ever been so tender with anyone else. She wondered if that was the real Quinn Fabray.

She looked at Rachel's bare chest and noticed the Star of David resting against her tan skin. "Well, aren't you a good Jewish girl?" Quinn whispered. Rachel snorted.

"I believe that you're right about some of that." She looked at Quinn in amusement. "I am Jewish." The blonde nodded for confirmation. "I'm also a girl."

"That's, well, that's two out of three." Rachel nodded. "If you're not Jewish then why wear that?" She picked up the star and lightly traced it.

"It was my mother's." Quinn frowned. She didn't know what to say to that. Rachel had never brought the woman up and because of that Quinn never mentioned it. "I don't really know who she is. Isn't that absurd?"

"No," Quinn whispered. "Not really, Rachel."

"She gave it to my fathers when I was born. She wanted me to have something to remember her by. I suppose it's better than nothing." Quinn gently put the star back on her chest before curling Rachel into her further.

"Do you ever wonder about her?" She felt the girl nod into her chest. "I'm sure I could find her if that would be something you'd want?"

"I don't know, Quinn," Rachel whispered before clearing her throat. "Did I ever tell you that I love you?" The blonde felt her heart stop.

"No, Rachel," she answered in an equally soft voice. Rachel hummed.

"Why didn't you ask me then," she questioned as though it were the most normal thing in the world. Quinn inhaled deeply.

"We've been together almost a month," Quinn replied. "The first time I mentioned love you told me I was full of shit." Rachel giggled. "I guess I'm afraid to. Do you really think two people could be in love after a month?"

"Ask me."

"I just did. Do you really think two people-" Rachel snorted.

"Not that," she interrupted. "Ask me." Quinn frowned, her brows furrowed. She retraced their conversation. She swallowed thickly upon figuring things out.

"Do you love me?" Rachel simply gazed up at her through her long lashes. Quinn felt herself begin to grow hot.

"What do you think?" Quinn sighed before running her palms over Rachel's bare arms.

"I guess so. Maybe you do. Yeah," Quinn finished. "Well, I think so." Quinn pressed an open mouth kiss against her neck before Rachel pushed away.

"Quinn, I don't just love you…" Quinn became frantic. She was going to have to go down to the lobby and order a different room. The trip back would certainly be awkward. Maybe Rachel would listen to her iPod or something. She would drop her off at Hemenway Hall and that would be the end of the greatest thing that'd ever happened to her. "I love you very much, Quinn."


	6. Chapter 6

I think I update too much. :P I guess I should leave this thing alone for like a week or something. I don't know. Leave me a review and tell me when to update again so I don't overdo it. Haha.

Short chapter, sorry!

Also, I just wanted to say that I don't own Glee. 'Cause if I did then I would be rich and not waiting eagerly for my refund check from my school.

* * *

She truly loved her roommate. She did.

Santana Lopez had a kind heart. Deep down. Sure, maybe she only showed it to Brittany but that didn't make it less true. She wasn't the nicest girl around, but she was Quinn's best friend. She was a good roommate and despite the fact that she was a bitch-she was loyal.

Through the majority of senior year she had suffered. They had decided to use the scrunchie system whenever they had "action within." Quinn was certain that a lot of times the Latina simply went to Brittany's apartment, but that couldn't have always been the case since the blonde lived a good forty-five minutes away.

Sometimes she would go to the library or to Pi Eta Club, but Quinn had no idea where she went during the weekends when she and Rachel would screw the rules and sleep together. The blonde was certain that Santana would have to scurry around looking for a place to sleep-probably having to stay on the local crazy-Suzy Pepper's couch.

Quinn would have done the same for the Latina though, she was certain.

She only felt slightly bad, however, because what did the Latina get out of it? A long time ago Quinn shared every detail of every single hook-up with the girl. Quinn had told her about all of her love conquests and fails. The Latina would laugh at her or tell her she did a job well done, but all that had come to a change. Quinn had not once said a single thing about Rachel. She'd tell the Latina when she would need to leave the room simply telling the girl she could come to any conclusion she wanted to.

"Damn it, Quinn, you're my bitch or something-are you tapping that ass or what?" Quinn rolled her eyes before picking looking at the various dresses she had in her closet. Her makeup had already been done as had her hair. Now she simply had to find the right outfit.

"Santana," Quinn sighed, "I'm asking you as a friend to please not ask me about that." Santana's eyes widened in disbelief. She laughed loudly-it was more like cackled.

"I think someone has it bad, Q. I mean come on, afternoons together, Friday nights, Saturday nights? You're either a pussy or she puts out a lot." Santana smirked, knowing she was pushing the blonde. Unfortunately, Quinn knew that too and opted to stay level-headed.

"Well, why are you even asking me?" Santana flopped down on her bed, putting her hands behind her head and simply looking at the ceiling.

"It's not healthy." Quinn fought the urge to laugh. A part of her simply thought that Santana just missed her, but that was giving Santana too much credit.

"I don't even know what you're rambling about now, S. We've spent four years together. You're like the sister I never had-"

"You have a sister," Santana pointed out.

"She doesn't count. She's a bitch," Quinn continued. "But I don't understand what you're getting at. What's unhealthy?"

"This whole thing," Santana shouted before jumping up from the twin bed."With all your girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever the fuck you were dating you've told me everything. Now you're just shutting me out. What is it about Rachel that's so different? Why is she so special?" Quinn rubbed her temples.

"Santana, when you truly love someone-" Santana gasped before covering her hands over her mouth. "What? What is it?" Quinn asked frantically.

"Love?" Quinn looked down shyly for a moment before looking back at Santana.

"You act like it's some dirty word. I'm expecting you to go get a bar of soap and force it down my throat," Quinn whispered. Santana's glare softened momentarily but immediately heated back up.

"Jesus Q, love at your age? I don't think so," she snapped. "I fear for you." Quinn clenched her fists and made her way over to Santana's side of the room.

"And what? You just keep Brittany around because she's a good fuck? No, I don't think so," Quinn snapped. "You may be afraid to admit it but you're crazy about her. I'd even go as far as to say you're in love." Santana sneered. "Why do you fear for me?"

"Your loss of freedom? Your life? I don't know," Santana grumbled.

"I think you're afraid of losing a roommate," Quinn whispered before sitting down on the bed beside the dark haired girl. Santana smiled genuinely for the first time during the entire conversation.

"Whatever," she replied. "It isn't like I'm losing one. I think I gained one with the amount of time Dwarf spends over here." Quinn shoved the girl playfully before getting up and looking at the dresses. "Wear that one," Santana pointed to a white one. "It makes you look pretty, which is a great feat," Santana howled with laughter at her own joke.

"I look better than you do, Charo," Quinn quipped much to Santana's horror. "Don't worry about it, S," her tone soft. "Rachel and I are taking things slow." Santana shook her head.

"No you aren't," she rolled over onto her stomach and sighed. "Rachel has you right in the palm of her hand. Quinn slid into the dress and looked in the mirror-checking for any visible flaws in her appearance.

"It'll work out, San," she whispered before sliding her heels on and making her way towards the door.

"Q?"

"Yeah, S?" Quinn turned around to look in Santana's direction.

"You are getting some though, right?" She turned around and left the room without another word.

She could hear Santana laughing down the hallway.

* * *

She was at some special concert for some old man who had donated money to something. She wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but she knew Rachel had been invited to sing and that was all it had taken to get her to tag along.

She had heard Rachel sing a lot-when they were riding in the car, or studying in one of their rooms. She knew that the brunette had talent. Hell, she probably had more talent in her pinky than Quinn did in her entire body. She never, however, heard Rachel sing in public.

After the event Quinn could honestly say that she had never felt more proud of anything in her entire life. Rachel had been amazing. She had been the first person clapping and out of her seat as her final note came to a close. The performance was flawless.

"You did so amazing, Rach," Quinn bragged, "I'm so proud of you. You were great." Rachel pouted and Quinn immediately knew something was wrong.

"That shows what you know about music, Blondie. I went flat a total of one and a half times." Quinn's brow furrowed. She wasn't entirely sure how one could go flat a total of one and a half but if Rachel said it was possible then she supposed it might be. "The accompanist sped up midway through the selection. It was a train wreck." Quinn giggled at her girlfriend's dramatics.

"Well, I know enough to know that you were better than anyone else up there," Quinn countered. The smile that lit up Rachel's face was entirely worth it. They continued walking through the courtyard until Quinn saw a bunch of Rachel's music friends walking by. They didn't like the blonde for some reason so Quinn began to steer them towards Memorial Drive to walk along the river.

"Wise up, Quinn. You may know a lot about lawyer things or whatever you guys call it, but music is my area. I sing alright." Quinn had heard the stories of Rachel and her ego when it came to singing. She had never gotten a chance to see it though.

"Okay," Quinn replied with defeat. "You should never stop singing though, you know," she reached for Rachel's hand and smiled when the brunette accepted it. They had been together several months at this point and the butterflies were still there.

"Who said I was going to quit singing?" Quinn shrugged her shoulders. "I've practically got a spot waiting for me with this musical opening on West End." The brunette immediately shut up. Quinn frowned sensing that Rachel had been keeping something from her.

"What is the West End?" She asked. Rachel shifted awkwardly before pulling away and looking at the river.

"It's kind of like Broadway?" She offered sheepishly. Quinn was certain that the smile on her face couldn't get any bigger. "Except in London," she added quickly. The blonde felt her stomach drop.

"In England?" She ignored the fact that she was wearing an expensive dress-a white one at that, and sat down on the grass. It was either ruin a dress of faint.

"Yes, I have a friend who wrote a musical that got picked up over there and he said he wanted me for the lead."

"Rachel," Quinn whispered, praying to God that the brunette wouldn't know that she was on the verge of tears. "Rachel, are you going to London?" She asked slowly.

"I've never been to Europe," she kneeled beside the blonde who angrily pulled away from her touch and stood up. She brushed the dress off and looked away. "I can hardly wait." With that Quinn lost her cool. She turned around and grabbed Rachel by the shoulders. She worried that it might have been too rough but a part of her couldn't care.

"How long," Quinn cleared her throat, "how long have you known about this?" Rachel looked away, unable to look Quinn square in the eye. "Rachel, answer me," her voice was cold. "Please," she added, on the verge of opening the floodgates.

"Quinn, be reasonable," she ran her fingers through her wavy hair her brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It was inevitable."

"What?" Quinn shouted, not caring if anyone else could see her or hear her acting like some crazed maniac. "What is inevitable?"

"We'll graduate," Rachel stated. Quinn looked at her dumbly, "and then we'll go our separate ways." The words were like a stab in the chest. "You'll go to Law School-"

"What? Wait-no, why?" Rachel opened her mouth to reply. "What are you talking about?" She finally looked Quinn in the eyes and for a moment the blonde wished she hadn't. She couldn't take seeing Rachel sad.

"Quinn, you're this social ruler billionaire, and I'm a loser." Quinn's grip on Rachel's shoulders lessened.

"That doesn't make sense, Rachel," Quinn whispered. "What does it even matter? Why do we have to go separate ways? We're together now aren't we? We're happy." A beat of silence caused the blonde to grow insecure. "Or at least I was. Are you not happy?"

"Quinn, don't be stupid. Of course I'm happy, but Harvard-all it is really is a place to groom the next generation of leaders, you know? And then when they're done they spit you back out…" Quinn raised an eyebrow, waiting on edge for the girl to finish her statement. "And you have to go back where you belong."

"So, what does that mean? You're going to go back to your dads and take over the family business? You going to bake cookies for all the elderly people in your neighborhood?" She was saying crazy stuff and she knew it, but she couldn't imagine living without Rachel now that the girl had been in her life.

"They don't make cookies," she snapped. "don't make fun of my fathers, Quinn." It was a low blow and she had known it.

"Then don't leave me. Rachel, please, you can't leave me," she finally let tears fall. It wasn't a way to guilt her into it-she simply couldn't hold it in anymore.

"What about me, Quinn? What about singing? What about this opportunity?" Quinn nodded before pulling away and wiping her eyes.

"What about our marriage?" The brunette's jaw dropped. For a moment she wasn't sure she had actually said those words aloud.

"Who said anything about getting married?" Rachel shrieked. Quinn didn't have to give it a second thought.

"Well, me," she whispered. "I'm saying it, and I'm saying it right now." Rachel didn't smile. She didn't frown. She didn't do anything.

"You want to marry me?" Once again Quinn didn't have to think about it. The answer was obvious as the day was long. She took a step towards the girl and cupped her cheek.

"Yes," she tucked a stray piece of brown hair behind Rachel's ear. "Yes, I want to marry you." Rachel titled her head to the side like some sort of confused puppy.

"Why?" She questioned simply. Quinn smiled despite the fact that Rachel had shown no emotion whatsoever.

"Because," she replied. Rachel nodded before taking Quinn's arm and pulling her back along for their walk.

"Well, I suppose that's a very good reason," Rachel whispered before resting her head against the blonde's shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

Most of you guys wanted another update today so I typed it out! Thanks so much for all the reviews. I try to respond to all of them but I forget to sometimes. Don't hold it against me. :P Anyway, I had someone send me a message asking me why the title was relevant to the story. I was curious to know what you guys thought!

Enjoy!

* * *

Cape Ann was about an hour from the bride they were stuck on, depending on the weather and how fast you drive. Quinn was frustrated, whereas Rachel simply looked frightened. She was clutching at her seatbelt with an almost frantic look on her face. "Quinn," she screeched, "you're driving like some sort of maniac!"

Quinn gripped the steering wheel tightly. "This is Boston, Rach," Quinn replied with a chuckle, "everyone drives like a maniac. It's just the way it goes." A red light stopped them giving Rachel ample time to catch Quinn's gaze.

"You'll have us killed before your parents are able to do the deed," she whispered. Quinn could tell the girl was nervous. She didn't want to make her feel worse by telling her that she had every reason to be. Her father, despite his arrogance, was well-liked by everyone that encountered him. For once she honestly hoped that he lived up to the world's standards of him.

"Babe, my parents are nice people," Quinn stated. The light changed forcing Quinn to tear her gaze away from Rachel.

"Even the son of a bitch?" The blonde's brows furrowed. She had no idea who Rachel was talking about. She questioned the brunette on who she was referring to. "Russell Fabray. Isn't that what you told me that you called him?" Quinn laughed, remembering clearly when she and Rachel had the conversation about him.

"He's a nice guy, Rach," she turned the radio off before putting her right hand back on the steering wheel. "You'll like him. I'm sure of it." Rachel scoffed.

"How do you know that, huh? Do you think you know me that well? You can't determine what people I will and will not like." The blonde's head turned slowly to the right to stare at her girl in disbelief and confusion.

"Everybody likes him," Quinn answered with an air of nonchalance, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You don't," Rachel replied. "I recall many occasions when you actually convinced me of quite the opposite actually." Quinn rolled her eyes but it went unnoticed by the brunette. "Why don't you like him?"

"That's easy," Quinn snorted. "Because everybody else likes him." Quinn frowned suddenly hit by a thought. Why was she taking Rachel to meet her parents? She didn't need her father's blessings. She didn't need anything from then when it came to Rachel. Rachel had insisted that they meet simply because it was the way things were done. A large part of it though was simply because Russell Fabray was her banker. He paid for everything. Her every schoolbook, her private tutoring, and even the damn tuition.

"This is just going to be casual, right?" Quinn nodded. "How often do you visit them during school?"

"Never," Quinn replied honestly.

"Right, that's casual," Rachel replied, sarcasm lacing every word.

She pulled out off the main road and onto a more familiar street. Rachel looked around nervously though. "There are no houses," she stated before looking around the green area. "There are only trees. Are you planning on killing me?"

"Tempting, but no. The houses are behind the trees." Rachel nodded. Quinn continued driving but slowed down. The turnoff to her house was easily missed.

She also realized that she had in fact missed it three hundred yards down the road. She slammed the brakes and threw her head back in laughter, efficiently scaring the girl beside her. "Where are we?"

"We went past it," Quinn grumbled before cursing under her breath. The day was starting to shape up to be entirely wonderful. She turned around and upon getting to the right turn took it. They were finally on Fabray land.

"Holy freaking hell," Rachel whispered much to Quinn's confusion.

"What is it?" Quinn rushed out. "What's the matter, Rachel?" She began to flail wildly, motioning with her hands. Quinn tried to understand, but she truly didn't know sign language. "Rachel, what are you trying to say?"

"Pull over," she yelled. "I'm not kidding, Quinn. Stop the damn car." The blonde slammed the brakes again and waited patiently for the brunette to calm down. "I didn't think it would be like this," she whispered before toying with the hem of her skirt.

"What? Like what?"

"I didn't think it would be this rich. I bet you have personal slaves in there, Quinn. Jesus," she mumbled. Quinn sighed. She wanted to reach over and comfort her, but she was honestly dreading everything herself.

"Don't worry about it," she reassured, "everything will be alright." Rachel nodded. In a way Quinn was slightly amused. Rachel was always so sure of herself and composed. She was finally getting to see Rachel in a state of mess.

"I'm kind of wishing that I came from a WASP family though," Rachel stated before playing with her nose. "They'll know I'm Jewish right away," she joked. Quinn laughed before putting the car back in drive and going the rest of the way. Upon reaching the house she stopped the car again and helped Rachel out before walking to the front door.

Waiting for the door to be answered was what finally caused Rachel to crack. "Let's run away," she whispered before turning around. Quinn tugged at the girl's wrist and pulled her back before giving a reassuring kiss.

"Let's just stay and fight," Quinn whispered.

The door was opened by Emma, a Fabray family servant. "Miss Quinn," she greeted before turning to look at Rachel. Quinn groaned. She hated being called that. "Your parents are waiting in the library." Quinn nodded before reaching out for Rachel's hand.

"God," Rachel whispered so that no one else would hear, "I can see half of the Harvard buildings hanging up in here," she pointed to the various portraits lining the walls.

"It's just a bunch of crap," Quinn replied with a smile. At the end of the hall before entering the library was a glass case filled with athletic trophies. Rachel gasped and traced the glass.

"They're beautiful. I've never seen them look so real." Quinn frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I've never seen ones that look like real gold and silver." Quinn nodded to acknowledge the question.

"Well," she started, "they are." Rachel's jaw dropped. She quit looking at the trophies and then looked at Quinn with pride.

"Are they yours?" The blonde sighed.

"No, my father's." Rachel frowned before biting her lip in nervousness. Quinn simply gave her a smile and prayed that Rachel couldn't tell that it was forced.

"Do you have trophies?" She chuckled.

"Yes," she replied with a smile-this time more real than the last. "They're in my room." Rachel nodded.

"In a glass case?" Quinn shook her head before bringing Rachel's palm up to her face and pressing her lips against the soft skin. "Where are they?

"Under my bed," she admitted. It wasn't that she was ashamed of them, exactly, but she wasn't proud. She didn't need constant reminders of such things unlike her father. Rachel gave her a coy look before getting on her tip-topes.

She whispered into the blonde's ear seductively, "We'll go look at them later, right?" Quinn's jaw dropped-ready to suggest that they go upstairs then and there.

"Hello there," a voice interrupted. Quinn fought the urge to groan and turned around. It was the son of a bitch.

"Hello, father," Quinn replied. "This is Rachel-"

"Hello," he stated and then reached for her hand. He began to shake it-all before Quinn had even gotten to finish introducing the girl. He wasn't his normal work clothes, Quinn realized. He had on a cashmere sport jacket and an sinister smile. "Come meet Mrs. Fabray," he stated.

Quinn was beginning to think she should have taken Rachel up on the offer to run. She was certain that meeting Judy 'Tipsy' Fabray was going to go on the list of accomplishments for Rachel. Tipsy left college before finishing her sophomore year to marry Russell. Quinn was grateful that the woman never thought about leaving her husband. She would have a hard time living if she ever did.

"This is my wife, Judy," Russell coldly stated. "Judy this is Rachel…" He trailed off. Quinn felt like punching the man in the face. He had already messed up.

"Brery," Quinn added since the son of a bitch didn't know Rachel's last name.

"Berry," Rachel politely stated before giving Quinn an odd look for mispronouncing her last name. Quinn felt like falling into the ocean and drowning or something equally horrible. How could she say Rachel's last name wrong? That had never happened.

"As in the Canal de Berry?" Judy stated before sipping a glass of wine she had already been nursing. Quinn groaned aloud. Trust her mother to have to say something to make herself feel smart.

"No, we're not related," Rachel joked. Quinn should have warned Rachel not to do that. The Fabray's looked at her as though she were mentally not there.

"Right," they said at the same time.

Judy reached out and shook Rachel's hand before pulling the two over to sit down. The library was eerily silent-no one was talking. Quinn tried to figure out what was happening. She knew that her mother was checking Rachel-judging her already.

"Quinnie, how have you been?" She looked at Russell and nodded.

"I've been well, Sir." He nodded. Judy looked at Russell before tearing her gaze away and making eye contact with Rachel.

"How was the trip here, Dear?" Rachel smiled shyly and played nervously with the hem of her skirt.

"It was lovely. The scenery was definitely lacking though," she laughed. Quinn's parents were un-amused.

Somehow a teacup ended up in both of their hands. Quinn had spaced out while Rachel and Judy had been conversing about music or art. She wasn't entirely sure. Quinn looked around the room before loudly yawning. "We have to get going soon."

"What," Rachel questioned in confusion. Quinn supposed that it seemed as though she had gone off on a tangent. That couldn't be further from the truth though. She had been ready to leave since getting in the car to come to the Fabray's.

"You didn't come for dinner?" Judy feigned sadness.

"We can't," Quinn stated.

At the same time, "Of course," fell from Rachel's lips. Damn the brunette and Quinn's inability to deny her anything.

"I have to get back," Quinn tried one last time. Rachel gave her another odd look before Russell cleared his throat.

"What are you talking about, Quinnie? You're staying for dinner. That's final," he chuckled with a fake smile. Quinn growled lowly. It went unnoticed by everyone but Rachel. She was not going to be told what to do by that man.

"We can't," Quinn replied with conviction.

"Quinn, we have to," Rachel whispered before running her fingers over Quinn's forearm.

"Why?" She whined causing Rachel to break out into a smile.

"I'm hungry."

* * *

They sat at the table with Russell at the head. Judy was on his right and Rachel on his left. Quinn watched as her father's prayer seemed unending. She wondered what Rachel would think. The old man was clearly trying to show himself off.

Quinn was mortified.

"Play ball," Quinn yelled as some sort of tension breaker. The room turned quiet. No one seemed the slightest bit amused. Rachel glared at her before looking away. Russell looked at Quinn before taking a bite off of his plate.

"I wish you would have played ball. You could have been good at something," he stated. Quinn immediately dropped her head and began to nibble at the food on her plate.

Much to Quinn's horror the rest of the dinner didn't go by in silence. "Rachel, where are you and your parents from?" Rachel smiled before placing her napkin gracefully in her lap.

"My dad is from Lima, actually," Rachel stated proudly. "My daddy is from Boston though." Judy's jaw dropped in something akin to horror. Russell cleared his throat.

"We own some mills in Lima actually." Rachel smiled.

"Small world."

"Yes," Quinn added. "It's where they take advantage of the poor. They work for cheap money," the blonde stated. Rachel slapped her hand lightly.

"In the olden days," Russell chuckled. "Would you two like some coffee?" Rachel nodded. Judy stood up and headed off towards the kitchen.

* * *

They went back into the library for what Quinn hoped to be the final time that night. She and Rachel had classes the next day, Son of a Bitch had the bank, and Quinn was certain that Tipsy had something to do. "Would you like some sugar, Sweetie?" Judy asked. Quinn shook her head and proceeded to hold her coffee.

"Of course she does," Russell interjected. "She always likes sugar." Quinn scowled.

"Not tonight. I just want it black," Quinn snapped. Russell smiled and nodded. Judy sat back down and patted her husband's thigh lovingly. Quinn wanted to throw up.

"Oh, Russell, have you told her?" Quinn's eyes narrowed. Anything her father could have to say would be terrible.

"No dear, drop it," Russell smiled. Quinn knew what he meant though. He was begging for someone to ask him.

Dryly, Quinn asked, "What, sir?"

"Nothing important," he replied before wrapping his arm around Judy.

"Nonsense," she shouted with excitement. "Your father is going to be the director of the Peace Corps." Quinn frowned. That was simply another thing her father could add to his list of successes.

"Oh," Quinn let out harshly. Rachel, too, said oh, but hers was in a happier kind of way. Quinn's father acted as though he were embarrassed while he took all of Rachel's compliments.

"Congratulations, Mr. Fabray," Rachel exclaimed. "That's truly wonderful. The Peace Corps is a brilliant thing." Russell nodded. "It will be a wonderful experience."

"Yeah," Quinn added lamely. "Can you pass me the sugar?"

* * *

The moment they had gotten back in the car Quinn had known something was wrong with Rachel. She opted not to press her about it though. She knew how upset Rachel would get if you questioned her before she had simmered down. "You could have been happier for your father, Quinn," she whispered into the silence.

"It's not like he's the President of the United States, Rachel," Quinn snapped before turning the radio on and blaring the volume.

"You could have been more enthusiastic or something. You acted like you were brain-dead," she crossed her arms over her chest and scoffed.

"I said 'congrats'," Quinn defended herself. Rachel gasped before clapping-all of it done in a sarcastic manner.

"Well, that was so very generous of you, Miss Fabray." Quinn's knuckles paled as she grabbed the steering wheel tighter. She didn't want to take her anger out on Rachel, but the brunette was steadily making her angrier. "The whole thing makes me sick, Quinn."

"That makes the both of us," she replied before a minute of silence passed. "What makes you sick?" She added.

"The way that you treat your father. It's disgusting, Quinn. You should be ashamed." It was a low blow. Rachel knew how she felt about her father and she was once again taking the old man's side. She felt tears welling up in her eyes but decided she wouldn't give Rachel the chance to see her cry.

"What about the way he treats me?" She cried out.

"What are you talking about?" Rachel shouted. "He's your father, Quinn. He loves you regardless. Why are you being like this?" Quinn rubbed her eyes, thankful that it was dark out so that Rachel wouldn't know what she was doing. "You just bother him. You never stop. I was mortified."

"He did the same thing to me. Did you not notice that at all?" Rachel scoffed before turning her body so that none of it was facing Quinn.

"I don't think you'd stop at anything to hurt your father."

"It's not possible to hurt him. I don't know of a damn thing that would piss him off." The silence was odd; it was heavy and not comfortable.

"Unless you marry Rachel Berry," Rachel whispered. Instantly Quinn felt herself grow furious. She pulled over into the nearest parking lot before unbuckling her seatbelt. "What is it?" Rachel yelped.

"Is that really what you think, Rachel?" Quinn shouted. "You don't think that I love you?"

"Well," Rachel trailed off, "yes, you know I do. I think that you love me because I'm frowned upon though." Quinn opened her mouth to interrupt, "Really Quinn, marrying me would drive your father mad. He doesn't approve of me. That was blatant. You cannot say that it has nothing to do with it."

"Yes, I can," she whispered.

"I can't judge you, Quinn," Rachel added. "I love you, but I love your name. I love that you're a Fabray." She looked away and cleared her throat. "I can't not love it because it's just who you are."

Quinn blinked for several seconds unsure of what to say. She had loved Rachel because she had always been able to see the good in her that no one else was capable of seeing. It didn't change the fact that she felt unworthy of the perky diva though. She looked up at the neon sign blinking "Clams and Oysters."

"How can you just do that," Quinn whispered. Rachel asked what. "How can you sit there and just love me?"

"I just do," Rachel replied. Quinn looked away to hide the tears again. She had probably cried more that night than she had in her entire life.

"Would you like a clam or an oyster, Rachel?" The brunette's eyes widened comically.

"Do you want a punch in the mouth?" Quinn nodded, smiling when Rachel made a fist and placed it against the girl's cheek. "I'll do it."

"No you won't," Quinn dared before kissing her fist. She leaned over to give her a hug but was punched in the arm by petite girl.

"Just drive, Blondie. I don't have all day here." Quinn threw her head back and chuckled before putting the car back in drive and taking off.


	8. Chapter 8

So I'm in my comp class. I'm supposed to be writing a literary analysis, but somehow this ended up happening instead. :P

Anyway, this is a short one so I might post another one later tonight if I get enough reviews. :D

Enjoy!

* * *

Quinn frowned as her father took a bite out of his dish. He had called her up and suggested that they get together to talk. Russell never did such things so the blonde assumed there was something that needed to be discussed. However, upon arriving she found that nothing had changed. He had preached to her over living life too quickly.

And then somehow they had ended up looking awkwardly at each other in between bites of food. They had met at the Harvard Club so that they were surrounded by his people. The majority of the people were men who looked up to Russell Fabray, or worshipped the ground he walked on.

"Quinn," he whispered in between bites, "you really shouldn't eat your food so quickly." The blonde sighed. She was only eating quickly so that she could get away sooner. She supposed that responding with that answer might not be the brightest idea. "You'll make yourself sick," he laughed quietly.

"I'm a grown woman, Sir. You shouldn't really comment or try to correct my behavior." He arched a bushy eyebrow and narrowed his eyes before shaking his head in disappointment.

"You know Quinn, even the world's greatest leaders need constructive criticism now and then." The blonde said nothing else knowing that they were avoiding the one conversation they needed to have most.

"Father," Quinn took in a deep breath as the blond haired man looked at his daughter carefully, "you haven't said a thing about Rachel." He nodded before scratching the back of his neck lightly. "I'd like it if you did," she added nicely. He ran his palms over the silky tablecloth.

"What's there to say, Quinn?" She took in a deep breath. She couldn't blow up at her father while talking about the brunette. "You've presented me with an irreversible situation." Quinn nodded before picking up her fork to stab a piece of lettuce from her salad.

"But," she trailed off, "what do you _think_, Father?" He put down his silverware and sighed before looking at her. She could tell that whatever he was about to say was going to be a problem.

"I think that Rachel is a nice young lady. She's very admirable. A girl with her background getting into Berklee? That's unusual. I 'm not saying that the school is good, but it does cost some money." Quinn clenched her fists. She knew her father was skirting around the issue.

"Get to the point," she yelled, earning several stares from the older men around in the room. He looked around in embarrassment before lowering his voice.

"It has nothing to do with Rachel, but it has everything to do with you." Quinn's jaw dropped. She couldn't even comprehend what the man was trying to say. "You're just rebelling, Quinnie. That's all this is-your rebellion."

"I beg your pardon," she shouted, even louder this time. "I do not understand how marrying a beautiful and incredibly talented girl equals rebellion. She isn't crazy. She has nothing wrong with her. She isn't some sort of hippie."

"She is not many things, Quinn," he replied and for once Quinn understood.

"What bothers you the most? Is it that she's Jewish? Or is it that she's poor? Hell, is it the fact that she's a girl? You've known about my sexuality for years. I'm going to assume that it honestly has nothing to do with the fact. If I told you that I was in love with Santana you'd have no problem with it, right?"

"That's different," he replied before leaning towards her. "What attracts you the most to her?" Quinn slammed her napkin down onto the table and pushed her chair back. "What are you doing?" He whispered loudly. "Stay here and finish this conversation like a young lady. You're being disrespectful."

She stayed.

"I simply wish that you would wait a while," he added. Quinn looked around the stuffy room and frowned. She didn't want to wait to marry Rachel. She didn't want to have to earn her father's approval. She simply wanted to be with the brunette.

"Define what you mean by 'a while,' Sir," Quinn whispered. Russell looked pleased with himself, as though he knew he finally got Quinn to come around to his side.

"Did you get your letter from Law School yet?" Quinn nodded. "And?"

"You know," she harshly replied. "I called you after all." He nodded before straightening his tie.

"I'd just like to hear it stated aloud. Will there be another generation of Fabray's going to Law School?" Quinn nodded. He smiled but something about it simply disturbed her. He reached across to lay his hand against hers.

"Father," she whispered before pulling her hand out of reach, "please define to me what you meant by that statement." He nodded before taking a sip of his drink.

"I simply mean that if your relationship is real then it can stand the test of time." Quinn waited for him to continue his statement. "Wait until you're done with school. Finish law school." The blonde was certain that her feelings on the subject matter were made without her having to vocalize her thoughts. She wanted to stand up to him though. She wanted to show him that his compulsive need to dominate her life couldn't be allowed any more.

"It is real," she shouted. "Why in the hell should I test it? I love Rachel and she loves me."

"Quinn," he began again trying to calm her. It had the opposite effect on the girl. "You're a minor."

"A minor what?" She shouted. By this point the entire room had grown silent. People trying to enjoy their meals were instead witnessing the Fabray fallout. "What, Father, please tell me what it is that you're going on about."

"You're not legal," he shouted, finally losing his temper. "You aren't even twenty-one yet. You're not an adult so do not try and get yourself into adult situations. You can't marry that girl because you're still a child. You know nothing about the work it takes.

"Screw the legal crap," she threw her hands up into the air before pushing her seat back a final time. She stood up and turned to leave before her father's words reached her ears.

"If you marry her now then I will not give you the time of day," his tone was biting. Everyone had heard it. She had known it. She didn't care.

"Father, excuse me," Quinn turned around, "Mr. Fabray," she sneered, "you don't know the time of day." She grabbed her purse and clutched it tightly to her chest before storming out.

That was the day she walked out of his life and began her own.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Rachel whispered as the blonde banged her head against the keys of the piano. Quinn let out a frustrated groan before lifting her head. "I'm fairly certain that the piano did nothing to warrant such behavior from you." She smiled at the blonde, happy with her clever joke. The smile dropped instantly upon seeing the tears forming in Quinn's eyes. "What's the matter?"

"You know, there are so many things I want to do," Quinn's eyes were glazed over as though her mind were in some faraway place. "But the only thing I need to do is be with you, Rachel." Rachel ducked her head and fought the urge to throw herself into Quinn's arms.

"Is that so?"

"It is so," she replied. "I don't know if God took pity on my soul by sending you to me or if he's planning on breaking me even further by having you fall in love with Santana or something equally horrible." Rachel cocked her head to the side and bit her lip trying to hold in her laughter. "I went to visit Russell today."

"So we're not calling him son of a bitch anymore?" Quinn shook her head. "Well, that's an improvement. I'm proud of you, Quinn." The blonde snorted before beginning to glide her fingers over various keys. Rachel watched in amazement as Quinn began to produce a beautiful sound. "I didn't know you could play."

"I can't really. I can just do a little bit here and there," she replied before looking back at Rachel. "Would you be terribly upset if when we got married my family wasn't there?" Rachel sighed before running her fingers through her flowing locks.

"Is this some sort of attempt at making them mad again or what? I don't understand you, Quinn."

"No," Quinn took in a deep breath to calm herself. "I met my father for lunch earlier." Rachel beamed at the blonde, proud of Quinn's attempts to be nicer to her father. "Well, things didn't go well."

"What happened?" Quinn stood up and made her way over to Rachel-careful to not trip on any of the various cords lying around the floor from the headphones among the other electric pianos.

"I don't," Quinn trailed off, unsure as to how you explained that you didn't have a family anymore. "You see, I don't really know how to explain this to you." Rachel slowly walked over to the blonde and sat on the piano bench beside her.

"Try?" She reached over and placed her hand in Quinn's. The blonde nodded before looking the diva in the eyes.

"I've been disowned," she whispered. Rachel's hand immediately went to her mouth-a gasp escaping her lips. "I don't want you to worry about it though, Rachel."

"Why?" The brunette questioned before jumping up. "What happened? I thought you two were going to try being more civil to each other."

"I did try," Quinn interjected. "I tried for you, but he wanted me to wait until after law school to marry you. He kept saying that I wasn't old enough to know what I wanted. He just doesn't understand me at all." Rachel pulled Quinn up from her seat and wrapped her arms around the tiny waist.

"We can wait, Quinn," Rachel whispered into her neck, "I don't want you to have these kinds of problems." Quinn pushed Rachel back and looked down so that their eyes were connected.

"I am not waiting any longer than I have to. I love you, Rachel. It's sudden and unexpected, but that's the truth. My father gave me an ultimatum thinking that I would cave, but it won't happen. If we waited to get married after I got out of school then who knows what kinds of things we would miss out on?" The blonde cupped Rachel's jaw and leaned down to press her lips against the diva's pouty ones.

"But what did he say, Quinn?" She whispered. "What was the ultimatum?"

"Wait until I graduated from law school to marry you or lose the family." Quinn could tell from the look on Rachel's face that she was already thinking of some sort of plan to work things out for everyone. "But it was no competition, Rachel. _You _are my family, and I don't need them."

"Oh, Quinn," the brunette lunged at the blonde who eagerly accepted the hug. "You're so stupid," she cried before pulling away and giving her lips a peck.

"But you love me, right?" Rachel nodded. Despite losing everything in one day she still got to keep the only thing that mattered.

"Who knows why I do," she mumbled against her temple as she pressed another kiss there.

* * *

"Oh God, my eyes," Rachel screamed before slamming Quinn's door shut. The blonde raised her eyebrow before the brunette ran into her arms. "I can't un-see it!"

"What was it?" Quinn pondered aloud in amusement.

"It was horrible, Quinn. I've never seen something so icky." Quinn titled her head to the side before reaching for the doorknob. She had no clue what the brunette was going on about, but she certainly wanted to know. "No, don't open the door!"

"What was it?"

"Santana and Brittany were doing things that I can't say I understood." Quinn's face scrunched up in confusion before realization dawned.

"Man, they better not be on my bed again," she shouted with rage. Rachel looked sheepish and slightly sick. "That bitch is going to buy me new sheets again." Rachel nodded before tugging the blonde's wrist. "Where are we going?"

"Well, despite the fact that I'm scarred for life, whatever they were doing seemed slightly interesting. I suggest we go to my dorm and attempt it."

The blonde then began to haul ass-all thoughts of ruined sheets left behind.


	9. Chapter 9

I don't know when I'll be able to update again. This week is going to be really busy. Maybe I can Wednesday since I don't have classes, but I have two papers I have to write so it's not likely.

Well-read and review if you get the chance.

"So, explain to me this," she grabbed Quinn's free hand and gave said blonde a smile. "Since you technically aren't considering yourself tied to your family anymore they won't be my in-laws, correct?" Quinn pulled her hand away from Rachel's long enough to turn the steering wheel.

"That seems about right," Quinn replied. "Am I going the right way?"

"Yes," Rachel answered. "You'll turn at the exit after this one." Quinn nodded before giving the road her undivided attention. "Does that mean that I call them outlaws now?" The blonde laughed quietly to herself. Rachel had always known how to make her laugh when things were tense. "Quinn, please relax. Daddy will love you."

"That's easy for you to say, Berry," Quinn stated with worry. "I think he'll shoot me the minute I step foot inside his house."

"Don't be so dramatic, Blondie," Rachel retorted before hooking he iPod into Quinn's stereo system. "That'll be Dad's job." Quinn gulped.

Quinn was not looking forward to meeting Rachel's fathers. She didn't know whether or not it was because Rachel was an only child thus forcing her to be the center of her fathers' worlds, or maybe it was because she wasn't Jewish. Maybe her parents were interested in Rachel marrying someone like Noah Puckerman.

There was also the fact that she was now broke.

If Noah Puckerman had asked Rachel's fathers for their daughter's hand in marriage then she was certain the very first thing they would ask would be, "how will you support her?"

Quinn had no idea how to answer that question without blowing it.

This was probably the reason the blonde was refusing to drive over the speed limits on a warm day in May. She hoped to take as long as possible to get to the small town on the outskirts of Boston. Despite the fact that Rachel had always been wary of her driving at first, she had grown used to it-and was then complaining about the slow pace she had been driving at.

"Hey Rach, do you think you could tell me again?" The brunette sighed dramatically before slowly turning her head to face Quinn. "Please?" The blonde knew that Rachel lacked patience and was tired of repeating herself over and over again just to appease the hazel eyed girl. "Just once more?"

"I called Daddy and told him. He said it was okay. He said it was okay in English. Because despite the fact that you keep insisting we know Hebrew-he does not." Quinn nodded to herself and took in a deep breath of air.

"But what exactly does 'okay' mean, Rach?"

"Good God, Lady," Rachel shouted before pausing her iPod so that the entire car was silent. "Do you honestly mean to tell me that Harvard Law School has accepted a woman who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'okay,' Quinn?"

"Well," Quinn fired back, "it isn't a legal term." Rachel sighed and reached for Quinn's arm. The touch instantly calmed the blonde down. Rachel always seemed to be a calming factor for Quinn. Despite the fact that she was scared shitless she felt somewhat alright since Rachel was there.

"If you say so," Rachel replied before reaching for her iPod again.

"You know, 'okay' could mean that he's just willing to suffer through it." Rachel rolled her eyes before insisting on taking a nap. She took pity on the blonde and repeated again for the nth time the entire conversation she had with her father before letting Quinn know they would be visiting. He was surprised that Rachel was marrying a woman from Harvard but even more so when he found out that said woman was a Fabray.

"He also told me not to violate the Eleventh Commandment," Rachel added. "The second I told him I was dating Quinn Fabray those were the words to leave his mouth."

"What is that?" Quinn asked with worry.

"Do not bullshit thy father," Rachel replied with an airy laugh. Despite the fact that Rachel was in a grand mood Quinn's was steadily declining.

"Does he know that I'm poor now?" Rachel reached across the center console and attempted to take Quinn's hand again.

"He does know, yes."

"He doesn't mind?" Rachel began to rub circles on the back of Quinn's hand.

"At least you both have something in common," Rachel offered with a cheesy grin. The blonde responded by pulling her hand away. "Quinn, please relax. I wasn't this nervous when meeting your parents and they are a lot worse than my fathers."

"He would be happier with me though if I had some money though. You can't lie to me about that." Rachel sighed at her fiancée's antics.

"Well, wouldn't you?" The blonde shut her mouth and kept it closed for the rest of the ride.

* * *

By the time that Quinn unhooked her seatbelt Rachel had already jumped out of the car and was talking animatedly to various people who were crowded around. Besides children playing in the middle of the streets, there were families everywhere simply sitting on their porches chatting.

Everyone cheered for Rachel and waved at her as though she were some sort of famous woman. Quinn felt almost inferior while sliding out of her car. Everyone kept a watchful eye as Rachel held her hand out for the blonde to take.

"Hey, Rachel," a booming voice yelled from behind the two. Rachel spun around while squealing, dropping Quinn's hand immediately. Quinn watched as Rachel leapt into a man's arms while laughing loudly. "It's good to see you," he stated. "Who's this sexy woman?" He questioned in a voice that oozed sex.

"This is Quinn," Rachel immediately responded while being put down. "Quinn, this is Noah Puckerman," she added for clarification. Quinn almost retracted her hand but decided against it.

"Well damn," he snapped his fingers, "call me Puck. I wish we could have met before Berry here snagged you up." Quinn laughed uncomfortably.

"Rachel," an elderly woman from across the street shouted. Puck sighed before running his hands over his mohawk. "Who's this young lady?"

"She's nothing," Rachel shouted back with a laugh. Quinn pouted-her self-esteem rapidly losing itself. The older woman laughed loudly. Quinn almost worried that they would have to make sure she hadn't had some sort of heart attack.

"Maybe she's nothing but the girl she's with sure is." Rachel beamed before turning to look at Quinn with an impish grin.

"She knows," Rachel replied before once again grabbing Quinn's hand and tugging her towards her house. "Noah, are you coming?" Quinn groaned; she had almost forgotten about the manchild that was Rachel's best friend.

* * *

Quinn ran her hand through her wavy locks. The situation was awkward. Rachel sat on the couch, chatting with Noah while they all waited for her father to get out of the shower. Apparently the conversation they were having was too important for three, Quinn mused.

As she began to drift off into something resembling sleep a loud another loud squeal reverberated off the walls, waking her fully. "Daddy," the petite girl shouted. Quinn watched with a small smile as Rachel lunged after the man. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too, Baby," he whispered before letting go of his daughter. He was short with thick glasses. He pulled them off to rub then on his shirt before easing them back onto his nose. "And who might this be?"

"Daddy, this is Quinn," Rachel replied with a smile. He nodded before holding his hand out for her to shake. His grip was strong and almost intimidating.

"How are you, Sir?" Quinn questioned nervously. She didn't want Rachel's father to hate her after all.

"Hiram," he corrected. "You call me Hiram. Leroy is at the hospital, but I hope you'll stay long enough to meet him." Rachel nodded while Puck eased his arm around her waist."

"Hiram, Sir," Quinn replied, "I'm sure we can stay." He nodded before turning around to look at Rachel and Puck intently.

"I've missed seeing you two together," he pointed to the two of them before turning back around to face Quinn. "These two have a lot of history. You wouldn't believe the things they've gotten into."

"Oh," Quinn softly stated. Rachel pulled herself away from Puck and reached for Quinn's hand.

"Daddy, why don't you go get Quinn some of your cookies?" The older man instantly lit up and rushed out of the living room towards what Quinn assumed was the kitchen. "Noah, as much fun as it would be to catch up, I think it would be best if you leave. Quinn and I will come by when we're through with Daddy and Dad." Noah looked wounded but he nodded.

"See you later, Doll," he winked before pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. He waved at Quinn before seeing himself out.

Hiram returned with a plateful of cookies. Quinn, eager to please the man, ate two of each kind before falling backwards onto the couch. She informed him with great details about which were her favorites simply hoping the man would find her suitable for his daughter. Hiram smiled before patting his daughter's thigh. "She's okay."

That damn word was going to be the end of her. She knew not to question Rachel about what 'okay' meant simply because they hadn't had much luck talking about it during the car ride. "I told you she was okay, Daddy," Rachel replied with a smirk.

"You're okay," Hiram stated again but looked at Quinn. Quinn smiled-though she was certain it looked like a grimace.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Hiram," he corrected again.

"Thank you, Hiram," she tried. He nodded with a grin. She smiled upon realizing who Rachel got her smile from. "I appreciate it. I do. You know how I feel about your daughter, Sir. Well, not only your daughter, but you as well."

"Quinn, you're beginning to sound like me. Please stop rambling like a stupid blondie, and-"

"Rachel," Hiram shouted, silencing her. "Stop it. You're interrupting our guest." Rachel pouted. Quinn realized that Hiram was definitely an ally.

* * *

At dinner she had met Leroy. He hadn't exactly welcomed Quinn as much as Hiram had, but imagine her surprise upon finding out it was her father's fault. Her old man had somehow made sure that Leroy hadn't been awarded a spot on organization he had been campaigning for. Upon finding out that Russell had seemingly kicked her out of the family because of Rachel-he softened up to the blonde.

Leroy pulled Quinn away from Hiram and Rachel into his study room. "Let me speak to your father," he reached for the phone sitting on his desk. "I don't approve of the man but perhaps if we speak father to father?"

"Leroy, it would be a waste of time. I'm sorry." He looked pained-as though he couldn't understand what kind of father would be able to do that to their child.

"I just can't sit here and allow someone to reject their child like that." He scoffed. "Over love of all things? Does he not understand that it's a beautiful thing?" Quinn snorted. Russell Fabray knew nothing about love unless it dealt with materialistic things.

"That's alright, Leroy," Quinn stood up before pacing the room. "I rejected him too." He jumped out of his chair and slammed his hand down on the desk. The blonde jumped, startled by the act, and turned around to face the tall man.

"Don't you ever say that around me again, Quinn. A father's love is important. You cherish it. You don't just throw it away like yesterday's trash." Rachel stuck her head in the room. She must have heard her father's yelling, Quinn thought. "Just get the man on the phone. I'll take care of it."

"No, Leroy," Quinn repeated. She didn't want to offend Rachel's father, but she didn't know how else to make the man understand. "My father and I simply do not talk anymore."

"Quinn," he walked over to the blonde and ignored the brunette making her way inside. "I'm sure that he'll come around. When it's time to go to the church to get you two hitched it'll be good."

"Dad," Rachel interrupted. He turned to face her."About the church?"

"Yes?" He asked in confusion.

"We're not doing the church thing. Neither of us want to get married in a church. Despite the fact that Quinn was raised a devout Christian she has quit practicing." He nodded before scratching his chin.

"So you want to have a Jewish ceremony? Oh, that'll make your daddy happy, Baby," he whispered before outstretching his arms for a hug. Rachel shook her head.

"No, not exactly." He glared at Quinn before letting his gaze reach Rachel. The brunette turned with pleading eyes to Quinn-hoping the blonde would help her.

"Leroy," Quinn interjected, "you see, Rachel and I don't want some big thing. Especially in a church. Gays can't legally marry anywhere, hardly. We just feel that doing so in a church would be hypocritical of us."

"I see," he replied before sitting down on the small couch. "Then who will be doing the ceremony?" Rachel beamed.

"We will," she exclaimed. Hiram finally entered the room-and the conversation.

"What are we talking about, everybody?" He questioned happily while taking a seat next to his husband. Leroy patted his leg before looking at Quinn and Rachel.

"They are getting married and performing the ceremonies themselves," he whispered. Hiram looked as though he were lost.

"Is that legal?" Quinn snickered before catching Rachel's heated look.

"It is. A chaplain watches over while we both address each other." Leroy nodded while Hiram simply laughed.

"Daddy," Rachel stomped her foot. "This isn't a laughing matter. What, may I ask, do you find so incredibly funny?" This only furthered his laughter.

"Quinn, watch out. If Rachel has to speak then you all may be there for hours." At this the entire group-without Rachel-began to laugh loudly.

* * *

Once they were inside Quinn's car the blonde cupped Rachel's face and connected their lips gently. Rachel pulled away happily, a grin plastered on her face. "Drive, Blondie," she whispered. "I want to get back to school before Tina has a chance to steal my bed. She's the worst roommate. I have an incredible mattress. You know I refused to use the one they provided."

"I know, Dear," Quinn replied before leaving Rachel's street and getting back on the main highway. "Hey, Rachel?" The brunette hummed. "Since we're already on 30, I think I should tell you that we forgot to visit Noah Puckerman."

"I'm sure that was no accident." Quinn simply shrugged. "Besides, I'll simply Skype him from my room. We tend to have weekly chats in the nude." Quinn slammed on the brakes, earning a yelp from the brunette.

"Don't kid about such things, Rachel. I don't need a heart attack at this age." Rachel rolled her eyes. "Hey Rachel?" She hummed. "How do you think tonight went?"

"Okay," she replied before resting her head against the window.


	10. Chapter 10

It was Advising Day today so our classes didn't meet...which meant I just wrote this instead. Ha. I don't know if I'm going to continue writing this though. I may just pull the plug on it. Anyway, I'm freakishly sleepy so I think I'm going to take a nap before I have to go back to the school for lessons.

Leave me some stuff to wake up to! :P

* * *

"Do you want to go grab lunch?" Rachel questioned aloud before sliding her discarded shirt back on. "I'll pay for once since you're…"

"No," Quinn immediately responded while grabbing her sheets and covering up. "No, you can leave." Rachel's eyes widened. Had it been any other day Quinn would have made some snarky comment, but it wasn't-and she didn't.

"You're making it look like you're using me for sex," Rachel whispered. It almost sounded vulnerable. Quinn scoffed, knowing that Rachel knew better. The brunette nodded before grabbing her blue jeans (something Quinn had just talked Rachel into wearing) and slid them on before walking to the door. "I hope whatever it is you have planned is more important than I."

"It isn't," Quinn sighed before burrowing under the covers and letting Rachel walk out.

She knew she needed to get ready. She had plans to see through. Rachel had come over earlier all happy and perky. Quinn couldn't deny the girl anything so when a heated make-out escalated she simply let it. It wasn't as though she weren't getting any enjoyment out of it. She heard her phone go off on the other side of the room.

Begrudgingly, she made her way out of bed, the sheets still wrapped around her. She waltzed over to her desk and picked the offending item up. She chuckled lightly upon seeing it was from 'The Bitch.'

**Wat did u do to keebler?**

She raised an eyebrow.

_Who is Keebler?_

The response was almost immediate. She could hear cackling coming from the hallway. She rushed over to the door to lock it beforehand; knowing Santana had lost her key, and then glanced at her phone.

**Ur midget gf. Keebler elves.**

"That's really original, Santana," she shouted through the doorway only to be met with more laughter. A pounding at the door caused a frown to break out on the blonde's face. She slowly unlocked the door before making her way back over to the bed.

"Whoa," Santana shouted, "it looks like someone must have shouted the wrong name while doing the nasty," she finished much to Quinn's horror. "What did you call her? Did you mistake her for a garden gnome?"

"Santana, shut up," she fired back before walking over to her closet and pulling out a dress. "I don't have time to deal with your blatant crap." The Latina waved her hand in dismissal before plopping down on a chair.

"What's going on in your life? Are you and Berry still doing okay or what?" Quinn glared at her in a silent warning that she wasn't in the mood to converse. "Look Q, you can keep hiding things from me, but someday you're going to want someone to talk to and I won't want to listen."

"That'll be an answered prayer," Quinn shouted. A flash of hurt from the Latina made Quinn want to apologize, but she was up and out of the room before another word could be uttered. "Damnit," she shouted.

* * *

"I must have heard this wrong," the older woman stated while raffling through various pieces of paper lying on the old desk. "Miss Fabray, did I hear you right?"

"Yes, Dean Williams," the blonde replied. The words left a bitter taste in her mouth and a rolling in her stomach that almost made her want to be sick. "You heard correctly." She braced herself for what she had to say-again. It had been hard enough explaining the first time. "I will need a scholarship for next year, ma'am."

"Are you positive?" The woman asked incredulously-as though Quinn were just pulling some massive prank.

"Ma'am, that's why I'm here. You are in charge of Financial Aid, right, Dean Williams?" The older lady dropped her papers before giving the blonde her undivided attention.

"I am but this is odd. Your father informed us that he-"

"My father is no longer involved with me, Ma'am." The woman looked offended for a moment before a gasp escaped her lips.

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Fabray?" She took her glasses off and set them on the desk. "I don't understand what it is you are trying to explain here."

"My father," she cleared her throat. She was feeling bad enough as it was. She didn't want to have to talk about her father. It was during times like these that she missed Rachel. The girl was like her rock. "My father and I had a falling through." The old lady's expression changed to something blank and unreadable.

"That truly is disheartening, Miss Fabray." The blonde held back a scoff. The woman was making her angry and she simply wanted to leave.

"Very," she replied, "that's why I've come to you though. I'm getting married next month. We'll both work over the summer. It'll be a living, sure, but it won't be tuition. Your tuition is pretty high."

"Yes," the older lady whispered as though she still couldn't understand why Quinn was there. "You're getting married?"

"Yes, Dean Williams, I am. I'm very happy." She smiled and placed her glasses back on her face. "Rachel is very special."

"Rachel?"

"She's going to be my wife," Quinn finished in confusion. The older woman nodded but said nothing else. Quinn didn't miss the way the elderly woman shot her a look of disgust. "Dean Williams, I need a scholarship," she stated a third time. "I have no money in the bank, and I've been accepted here already."

"I understand," she nodded. "Miss Fabray, what you seem to misunderstand is that the final date for financial aid has passed." The blonde felt her stomach drop. The older lady was torturing her for no reason. She didn't know how to satisfy the woman nor did she care to at the moment.

"When I applied I didn't know this would happen though," Quinn fought back. Her anger was in check but she was certain that one more stupid remark from the lady would cause her to lose it.

"I'm aware of that, Miss Fabray," the lady stated. Quinn nodded before standing up. "I can tell you that this office does not need to enter a family quarrel. A rather horrible one at that."

"Okay, Dean," Quinn clenched her fists, "I see what you want from me, but I'm not going to kiss my father's ass so you can get a Fabray Hall for the damn Law School." The woman's jaw dropped but Quinn cared not.

"That's unfair," the lady muttered to herself once Quinn was on her way out.

The blonde couldn't agree more.

* * *

"Hey, Rach, I'm sorry about earlier." She walked slowly through the campus-not wanting to go back to her dorm to see Santana but not having anywhere else to go. "I was just in a bad mood. I had things to take care of financially. Whenever you get this please just call me back. I love you." She ended the call and shoved her phone back in her purse.

Ten minutes later she was surprised to see Rachel in the lobby of her dorm building. The blonde looked around to make sure the brunette wasn't there for anyone else (despite the fact that she didn't know anyone else). "Hey," Quinn shyly stated while reaching out to run her hand up Rachel's arm. "Did you get my message?"

"I did," Rachel responded. "I was already here waiting for you though." Quinn nodded before sitting down on the couch. She pulled Rachel down beside her and attempted to wrap her arm around the girl. "Quinn," her voice was full of something-Quinn just couldn't recognize the emotion. "Where did you have to go earlier? You can't truly expect me to believe that you love me and that a marriage will work if you don't trust me enough to tell me basic things."

"I had to go talk to the dean about getting a scholarship for law school," Quinn admitted with embarrassment. "I just don't have enough money to go now without my father's money." Rachel's face morphed into one of pain and sympathy.

"Quinn, I didn't know," she whispered before enveloping the taller girl in her arms. "I truly wish you would have told me though. Perhaps I could have gone with you." Quinn nodded into her chest. "What happened?"

"The dean basically told me to make up with my father so that there would be another Fabray going to school with them." Rachel pulled away and Quinn immediately knew what was coming. She had suffered through the same rant many times before.

"That is unfair. I'll have my fathers contact the ACLU."

"Despite the fact that I think you are incredibly cute when you rant about the ACLU, I don't think they would be willing to take on Harvard." Rachel had the decency to look embarrassed. "I love you for trying," Quinn whispered with sincerity.

"I love you for being you," Rachel countered earning a real smile from Quinn.

* * *

She watched with pride as Rachel marched her way down the various rows and aisles before crossing the stage. Her bright red cap and gown blended her in with the many other people who had chosen her major, but still Quinn could see Rachel over anyone else.

Quinn, who had been seated with Hiram and Leroy, was actually enjoying the time spent with Rachel's dads. They treated her like a daughter-something she truly never had the privilege of feeling before. "She's beautiful isn't she?" Leroy leaned over and whispered.

"Stunningly so," Quinn replied, fighting the urge to jump up and clap. "I'm so very proud of her," she added. Leroy smiled brightly and patted her thigh with affection.

"She's very lucky to have found you, Quinn. Despite the fact that things have moved very quickly, I'm very proud of the both of you." Quinn felt tears pricking at her eyes. Usually she would try her hardest to not cry in front of others-as it was a sign of weakness. Surrounded by the Berry men though, she let herself.

"Should we go down there and find her or wait for her to find us?"Hiram interjected watching as hundreds of people began to flood the floor. Leroy glanced around before scoffing.

"We're not moving. Rachel can come to us." Quinn threw her head back and laughed at the older man before standing up.

"I'm going to go find her," she shouted over the groups of other people talking. "I'm ready to congratulate her properly."

"Congratulate whom exactly?" A voice snapped from behind them. "Quinn Fabray, you best be only talking to me." With that the blonde was tugged around and grabbed forcefully before plump lips were reacquainted with her own.

"If it gets me kisses like that," Quinn husked in between breaths, "then I'll go congratulate every person in this damn room." Rachel laughed before pressing a softer kiss on the blonde's lips. "I'm proud of you, Baby." Rachel smiled and opened her mouth to reply but something caught her eye. She squealed loudly before grabbing Quinn's hand and tugging her along.

"Noah," she screamed. Quinn groaned. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Yeah, so did Ma and Sarah," he replied before pulling along an older woman and a small girl. Rachel's face lit up as she picked who Quinn assumed was Sarah up.

"Rachel," the older lady interrupted, "you look so beautiful. It's a shame Noah here hasn't snatched you up when it was possible." Rachel laughed nervously before her eyes flickered between Puck and Quinn.

"This is my girlfriend, actually, Ms. Puckerman," Rachel stated before using a free hand to press against the small of Quinn's back. "Quinn, this is Noah's mother."

"Pleasure to meet you," Quinn replied. She wondered briefly why she had been introduced as a girlfriend only but it occurred to her that maybe Rachel didn't want a lot of people to know about the engagement.

"She isn't a college graduate," Rachel added for the group to hear. By this point Hiram and Leroy had made their way over. Everyone began laughing-much to Quinn's embarrassment. "She's quite the looker though so she has that going for her."

"Well, she is a catch," Hiram spoke up before throwing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her away from Rachel. "We love her already." Quinn smiled before pressing a kiss to the short man's cheek. She saw Rachel out of the corner of her eye smiling happily at the action.

* * *

On Thursday Quinn finally became Rachel's academic equal which ended the brunette's teasing. She was no longer the non-college graduate of Rachel Berry. She received her degree from Harvard-earning the right to lead the graduating seniors to their seats due to being Class Marshal.

Of course, Rachel was most proud that she got to walk ahead of the smartest of the smartest because of that. She made sure to tease them despite the fact that she knew none of them. In her opinion Quinn Fabray was the cream of the crop-and that made her feel pretty great.

"Hey, Quinn," Rachel whispered once they had left Harvard Yard. "You gave my fathers and I your parent tickets." Quinn nodded into the brunette's chest before snuggling even further under the covers-basking in the warmth their intertwined bodies created. "Do you think Russell was there?"

"I have no idea, Babe," Quinn whispered before pressing a kiss to a forming bruise on Rachel's neck. "I wasn't scanning the rows for him, but I suppose he could have showed up despite the fact that I gave you and your dads my tickets." Rachel ran her hand through Quinn's blonde hair and sighed. "He would have been able to sit with his graduating class, of course."

"Maybe he was there then," Rachel hopefully questioned.

"Why would he be," Quinn whispered before running her hands over a toned stomach. "The banks were open today after all." The brunette sighed. "Are you ready for Sunday?"

"Very much so." Quinn smiled. "Are you? You aren't going to run away are you? I truly believe that Santana will show up long enough to see that you leave. Then she will laugh at me." Quinn chuckled before realizing the brunette was genuinely worried.

"I'm so in love with you, Rachel Berry. I wouldn't miss Sunday for the world."


	11. Chapter 11

This chapter is short. I have the next one written so I could post it if you guys wanted. I got like six reviews for that last chapter which you know-sucks-but I'm not going to quit writing this despite that because I would feel kind of bad leaving the readers hanging.

Next update will be Monday unless I get word that you guys want one today! Hope you're all having a great weekend!

* * *

They believed that the reason for keeping Rachel's family uninformed about the wedding was out of genuine concern. A Jewish family would not approve of having a wedding that did not use their customs and beliefs.

It was in an old building on Quinn's campus, north of Harvard Yard. The Unitarian chaplain Jordan Clarke happily accepted their offer to join them in union. Despite the fact that Quinn and Santana had always had a love/hate relationship she was the first person Quinn had invited, along with Brittany. The two were a packaged deal.

Rachel invited a friend that went to NYU-Jesse. Quinn hadn't met him beforehand, but she truly liked the guy. He was the male version of Rachel-in every way. She had, of course, invited Noah which Quinn could not say she was thrilled about. And of course, Hiram and Leroy were there.

Quinn had put Brittany and Santana in charge of Hiram and Leroy. She didn't think that Leroy would have as much of a problem as Hiram. Still, the blonde wanted to make sure that the two men were as loose as possible. Of course, despite the fact that Santana would later deny it-she wasn't as calm as she hoped she looked. All four of them stood together, looking incredibly awkward. Quinn would occasionally catch the Berry's looking at Brittany incredulously as though she had said something unheard of. Knowing Brittany, Quinn mused, that was probably what had happened. The Berry men had taken a true liking to Santana, however. It had stemmed from the fact that they both thought the idea of some sort of "do it yourself wedding" (Hiram's words) would be a "fucked up horror show" (Santana's words).

Rachel had actually been the one to propose the type of wedding they were having. Some of her friends at Berklee had a wedding similar in the spring that Rachel had fallen in love with. It was very beautiful and had sold her on the idea immediately.

"Are you both ready?" Mr. Clarke asked.

"Yes," Quinn replied happily for the both of them. Rachel nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. Quinn was certain that everyone felt incredibly awkward in the small room, unsure of what to do without a bride walking down or other things a normal wedding entailed.

"Friends," Mr. Clarke's deep voice boomed, "we are here to witness the union of two lives in marriage. Let us listen to the words they have chosen to read on this sacred occasion." The bride typically got to go first. But of course they were both brides! Rachel had begged and pleaded to be able to go first, which wasn't a problem to Quinn. She simply liked seeing Rachel whine-she had grown to think it was incredibly adorable.

Rachel took in a deep breath before grabbing Quinn's hands. She smiled and in that moment the reality of it all crashed down on Quinn. She couldn't wait to start her life with the brunette before her.

"When our two souls stand up erect and strong,  
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,  
Until the lengthening wings break into fire…"

Quinn saw Hiram from the corner of her eye with his jaw dropped to the ground, eyes widened in amazement and adoration for his daughter. She turned her attention back to the girl in front of her.

"… A place to stand and love in for a day.  
With darkness and the death hour rounding it.

Quinn sent Rachel a nervous smile. She knew that it was her turn and she felt like passing out. It had been incredibly hard to find something to say to Rachel because nothing ever came close to expressing her feelings correctly. She had found her winner within a section of a poem by Walt Whitman.

"…I give you my hand!  
I give you my love more precious than money,  
I give you myself before preaching or law;  
Will you give me yourself? Will you come travel with me?  
Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?"

She finished as a quiet hush fell over the room. Santana leaned over and handed Quinn her ring which prompted Rachel and the blonde themselves to recite the marriage vows, taking each other from that day forward, to love and cherish, till death do they part. By the power vested in him by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Mr. Clarke pronounced them legally married.

* * *

"This is the best wedding reception I've ever been to," Santana slurred before sliding out of the booth and heading over to the bar for a refill. Quinn tilted her head back in laughter. Since there had been so few of them they simply nixed the idea of a grand reception and opted to go to Campbell's, the local bar. Mike Campbell, the owner, had given them the first few rounds on the house.

"Yeah, whatever," Rachel replied before nuzzling into Quinn's neck. The blonde ran her fingers over Rachel's thigh before waving at Leroy who was heading to the bar after Santana. "When do we get to leave?" She whispered dreamily.

"I don't know," Quinn replied. "Whenever your fathers let us." Rachel snorted in laughter before tilting her head back and letting her melodious laughter fill the bar. Quinn smiled-excited that the girl beside her was going to be with her for life.

She assumed she might have been slightly under the influence, but she knew that she was high on love more than anything, something she never thought would happen.

Santana reappeared with a s cowl on her face. "The Papas Berry told me it was time to get a move on." Quinn arched an eyebrow at Hiram who simply shrugged his shoulders. "I think me and Britts are going to go back to her place. Let me hear from you in about a month or two."

"Sure?" Quinn questioned in confusion. The Latina smiled brightly before giving an awkward hug to everyone at the table and pulling her equally affectionate blonde counterpart away. Rachel giggled happily before pressing an open mouth kiss against Quinn's neck.

Leroy cleared his throat. Quinn wondered when he had gotten back, but decided against questioning it. She looked at the tall man with questioning eyes. "I'm going to pay for the last round." Quinn thought about protesting, but didn't want to make the Berry's mad. Later on Rachel would tell her that it had been wise to let her father pay.

"Yes sir," Quinn shouted before pulling Rachel out of the booth. She wrapped her arm around the diva and tugged her towards her car.

* * *

Hiram gave his daughter a tearful goodbye and Quinn a hug before getting on the bus. Leroy looked between the two before pulling Quinn to the side. "You're good for her," he simply said with tears in his eyes. Quinn smiled as the man gave her his blessing, ignoring her own tears in the process.

He got on the bus leaving Quinn and Rachel to wave after it until it drove completely out of sight. It was then that an amazing truth hit Quinn.

"Rach, we're married, like really." Rachel grabbed Quinn by her neck and pulled her down into her lips. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. Before Quinn could truly deepen it Rachel had pulled away with a smirk.

"Yeah, now I can be a real bitch."

I forgot to say that Rachel's sonnet was 22 by EB Browning.


	12. Chapter 12

Jemma1405-I can't reply to your PM. :P You've got it disabled.

purple slushie- I don't know what to tell ya...

Anyway, new chapter-like I promised. Enjoy!

* * *

Quinn jumped out of her car with excitement before grabbing the various bags thrown about the backseat. Rachel looked around the neighborhood warily before looking at Quinn. "You mean this is why we spent our entire honeymoon working rather than having wild sex?"

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked despite knowing the answer. Their honeymoon was spent on a yacht. That was, Quinn drove the thing while Rachel helped out with children on board. It was a snobby rich place that had a large hotel, a marina, and several houses for rent where a bunch of wealthy people came during the summer. They had gotten jobs there and were allowed to stay in a small bungalow for free. Of course, they didn't get paid much and because of that depended on tips from the passengers for their income. Quinn hadn't been fond of that-especially when certain young men would try to get grabby with Rachel.

Before leaving for the Cape, Quinn had found them a suitable apartment in North Cambridge. It had originally been a two family place, but had been turned into four apartments. "Quinn?" Rachel's voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"Yes, Rachel?"

"Do you think that the fire department was crazy for not condemning this place?" Quinn rolled her eyes at the diva's antics before pulling her out of the car. She reached for Rachel's luggage before heading towards the building.

"They were probably too afraid to go inside to actually do anything," she said with a chuckle.

"So am I," Rachel deadpanned. Speaking as a married woman I consider this place very unsafe." Quinn chuckled before shifting the weight of the bags in her hand.

"What do you intend on doing about it?" She wondered aloud. Rachel tapped her chin-a gesture she did a lot, Quinn had come to realize-before smiling brightly.

"I'll speak to my wife about it. She'll take care of it for me." Quinn's brows furrowed.

"I thought I was your wife?" Rachel simply smirked.

"Really now?" Quinn nodded. "Well, prove it." The blonde's jaw dropped. Surely Rachel didn't want her to ravish her in the middle of the street. Of course, now that she looked the brunette over she looked very ravish-able with her short skirt and tight blouse on. "Carry me over the threshold."

"But you don't believe in that crap," she replied. Rachel had always tried to say she didn't believe in fairytale stuff, but Quinn knew that deep down the girl was a romantic.

"If you carry me, I'll decide after." Quinn looked at the various bags she was carrying in her hands.

"I can't," the blonde replied. "I have all these bags and junk." Rachel scoffed before walking off in a different direction. "Where are you going?" Quinn shouted.

"I'm about to be a divorcee. My wife won't carry me over the damn threshold." Quinn threw all of the bags down in the middle of the road before running after Rachel and scooping the brunette up in her arms. She carried her up the five steps onto the porch before attempting to set Rachel down. "Why did you stop?"

"Is this not the threshold?"

"What kind of girl are you?" Rachel screeched. "Did you not ever picture a husband carrying you over a threshold?"

"No," Quinn replied. She probably should have realized she was attracted to women a lot sooner than she had.

"Well, negative. This is not the threshold."

Quinn looked at a piece of paper by a bell. "But I see our name right there," she replied. Rachel simply tightened her grip around the blonde's neck.

"This is not the official damn threshold," Rachel shouted. "Upstairs." Quinn laughed before pushing the door open.

Twenty-four steps up marked the "official" threshold. Halfway there she stopped to catch her breath lightly. "Why are you so heavy, Baby?" She joked. Rachel scoffed.

"Maybe I'm pregnant," Rachel deadpanned. Quinn's jaw dropped. She was certain that wasn't possible unless she had been cheating.

"No, you aren't," Quinn dryly responded. Rachel giggled before pressing a kiss against the blonde's cheek. Quinn continued to carry the brunette up the rest of the way.

Once they made their way into the small apartment Rachel rushed towards the bedroom.

"This is ridiculous," Rachel shouted. She fell onto the "pathetic excuse for a bed" before beckoning Quinn over with a finger. The blonde, helpless to refuse her wife, followed immediately. The blonde took in Rachel's entire appearance. She was beautiful. She was always beautiful.

She lightly pressed her lips against the corner of Rachel's mouth in an attempt to convey her feelings at the moment. Quinn didn't do corny but she was damn well feeling like it. "Quinn, what are you doing?" Rachel questioned once Quinn had pulled away and was simply staring at her.

"Looking at you," she replied as though it were the simplest thing in the world. "You're beautiful, you know."

"I know." Quinn smiled. Rachel's response was typically Rachel.

"You're something else, Berry," Quinn replied before running her fingers underneath the painfully orange sweater the brunette was wearing.

"It's Fabray, Fabray," Rachel replied before arching into the blonde's touch.

Touches became bolder and kisser sloppier as the two of them eased themselves out of their clothing. It was simple; they wanted to be as close as physically possible without barriers or restraints.

The blonde eased kissed the diva in almost suffocating manner as she slipped inside the girl, moaning at the way the brunette felt around her: _right. _"You know," Quinn panted while thrusting slowly. Rachel's eyes fluttered shut, her hands squeezing the blonde's shoulders painfully so. "I kind of love you," she finished before adding another finger.

Rachel let out a string of expletives before meeting Quinn thrust for thrust. It was a well-practiced dance that they had truly perfected over time. Quinn would keep the brunette teetering on the edge until she finally allowed the girl to tumble over.

"I kind of love you, too," Rachel replied as Quinn removed her fingers and trailed kisses up the diva's body. "I think it's my turn." She smirked before flipping the two over.

* * *

Quinn realized that the one good thing about being a Fabray was that people knew your name. The only reason she and Rachel were able to set up a charge account at the grocery store was because of it. Unfortunately, the Fabray also had a disadvantage where it counted most: the Shady Lane School where Rachel was going to be teaching music.

"So, what exactly happened," Quinn questioned. Rachel sighed before taking a bite of the peanut butter sandwich and then offering a bite to Quinn.

"I went to Miss Whitman's office to sign the contract," Rachel repeated. Quinn nodded along before taking the sandwich from her wife. "She said, 'of course Shady Lane can't match public school salaries. Of course, you marrying a Fabray helps a lot.'" "I tried to tell her, Quinn. Truly, I did. I told her that Fabrays had to pay rent too."

"And then what did she say?" Quinn questioned before setting her book down. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"She said, 'ho, ho, ho.' She thought I was kidding, Quinn! She said that Fabrays didn't need to pay for anything." Quinn knew that was what most people thought of them, but at this moment it truly hurt. "So, I've got thirty-five hundred a year."

"Well, shit," Quinn grumbled, much to Rachel's amusement.

"That's very articulate," Rachel replied with a chuckle before standing up to head towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, well, what do you want me to say? Ho, ho, ho?" Rachel's laughter filled the small apartment, bringing a smile to Quinn's face.

"No," Rachel yelled. "Just learn to enjoy spaghetti, Baby."

And Quinn did. Rachel learned nearly every possible way to make the pasta so that it didn't feel as though they were eating the same thing every day. Their summer earnings, Rachel's salary, and the income Quinn got from her night work had them doing okay financially. Rachel had to sacrifice going to see concerts while Quinn skipped the local hockey games.

Despite the fact that they still lived surrounded by their old friends things had changed drastically. Rachel came home from school exhausted, too tired to visit with her friends. Quinn's friends, including Santana, were considerate enough to not ask them out.

* * *

"Have you checked the mail?" Quinn looked up from her book to Rachel, who had just entered the apartment. Quinn shook her head and watched as Rachel sat down at a desk beside Quinn. "Did you read the mail?"

"No," Quinn replied. Rachel nodded before opening a letter. "We got invited to a dinner."

"Oh?" Quinn questioned while turning a page in her book.

"Mr. and Mrs. Russell Fabray request the pleasure of your company at a dinner in celebration of Mr. Fabray's sixtieth birthday Saturday, the sixth of March at seven o'clock." She looked up to judge Quinn's reaction. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Quinn replied without looking up from her book.

"It says RSVP." Quinn snorted before turning another page. "Well?" Rachel repeated.

"Do you even need to ask me this?" Quinn questioned. She was in the middle of reading _The State v. Percival_, a book very important to read in criminal law. Rachel waved the invitation around in the air in an attempt to frustrate the blonde.

It worked.

"I think it's time," Rachel shouted before standing up. The blonde sighed, knowing she wouldn't get to read the book anytime soon.

"For what, Rachel?"

"For what? You know exactly what for, Quinn Fabray. Your father is reaching out for you! Do you want him to crawl here on his hands and knees?" The blonde chuckled before picking the book back up.

"Bullshit, Rachel," the blonde calmly responded. "My mom addressed that envelope." She didn't have to look up to know that Rachel had her thinking face on.

"I thought you said you didn't look at the mail," she yelled. Quinn flinched. So, maybe she had glanced at it earlier. She was in the middle of studying. The object simply slipped her mind. "Quinn, think about it," she tried again-in a more soothing manner. "He's sixty years old. I'm fairly certain that the man may not be around whenever it is that you decide to reconcile things."

"Babe," Quinn shouted in frustration, "we aren't going to reconcile things ever. Now, would you please let me keep studying. I have exams coming up." Rachel sat down quietly at the edge of the couch by Quinn's feet. The blonde instantly knew her wife was staring at her intently. Quinn sighed before looking up.

"Someday," she quickly started off with her head held high, "when you're being bugged by Barbra Fab-"

"She won't be called Barbra," Quinn snapped. Rachel nodded. She didn't raise her voice, however, something she always did whenever Quinn lost her temper.

"I don't care if the kid is named Patches the Clown, that kid is still going to resent you. Do you know why? Because you were some big Harvard jock. By the time he or she is a freshman you'll probably be in the damn Supreme Court or something!"

"I resent that," Quinn shouted. "I should have never told you about Patches," she grumbled. "My kid won't resent me. I know it," she whispered to herself.

"Your father loves you, Quinn. He loves you the way that you'll love Patches. But you Fabrays are so damn proud and competitive. You'll waste your life away thinking that you all hate each other."

"If it weren't for you," Quinn replied superficially. Rachel nodded. "We're done with this conversation, Rachel." The blonde assumed that as the head of the household that would be it. She finally began to read her book again before Rachel interrupted.

"We still have to RSVP." Quinn sighed and once again, with frustration, set the book down in her lap.

"I'm certain that a music major knows how to do that," she snapped back. Rachel scoffed before rushing over to the phone.

"Listen here, Quinn Fabray, I'm certain that I've lied and cheated in my life. You know I sent that crazy weather girl to a crackhouse, but I've never truly deliberately hurt anyone. Not the way you do. I just don't think I could." Quinn shut her eyes because in that moment the brunette was hurting her.

"Please," the blonde whispered, "just handle the RSVP for me." Rachel's face seemed to have softened. She nodded before going back over to the desk and flipping through various files.

"What's the number?"

"Can you not just write them a note or something? They won't mind," Quinn replied. She saw _the _look on Rachel's face-the one that meant sleeping on a couch-and immediately gave up the number.

"Good evening, Sir," Rachel cheerily said into the phone. Quinn blanched. Had her father answered the phone? She waited with baited breath, unsure of why it was taking Rachel so long to say no. "Quinn?" She had her hand covering the mouthpiece. The blonde looked up to sad eyes. "Do we have to say no." Quinn nodded before waving her hand, signaling that she needed to hurry up. "I'm terribly sorry," Rachel said into the phone before clearing her throat. "I mean we are sorry…" Quinn clenched her fists in anger-why had Rachel included her in the apology? And why the hell couldn't she get to the point and hang up?

"Quinn," Rachel whined again, hand covering the mouthpiece. "He's hurting, Quinn. Please come talk to him."

"He is not hurting," Quinn shouted angrily. "That man knows exactly what he's doing. Don't let him trick you into feeling sorry for him, too." Rachel looked completely dumbfounded, as though she had just been slapped in the face. Her Jewish misconceptions about family being completely close were driving Quinn insane. But it was breaking Rachel's heart-and that broke Quinn.

"Quinn," she pleaded, "just one word." Quinn wanted to laugh; Rachel must have been going out of her mind. "Just maybe a hello?" At this point she was offering Quinn the phone and trying not to cry.

"I will never talk to him," Quinn responded calmly. And then the brunette was crying. They weren't loud sobs, no. They were silent tears pouring down her face-the ones that broke Quinn the most. And then? Then she begged. "For me, Quinn. I've never asked you for anything. Please."

All three of them were standing there. Because even though Russell wasn't there physically he was in spirit. Quinn could picture them all waiting for something. For her. She couldn't do it though. Did Rachel not understand that she was asking the impossible? That Quinn would have done absolutely anything for her-anything else. The blonde looked to the floor and shook her head in refusal.

With a whispered fury she had never heard from the brunette she turned to look at Quinn with disgust, "You are a heartless bitch." Then she turned back to the phone. "Mr. Fabray, Quinn wants you to know that…well, in her own special way, she loves you very much." She hung up the phone abruptly and turned to look at Quinn.

The blonde wasn't sure what possessed her to do it. Looking back on it-she pleaded temporary insanity. No, she pleaded nothing. She thought that she should never be forgiven for what she did.

She ripped the phone out of Rachel's hand and then from the socket. Yes, they had given up using cell phones unless it was an emergency. She hurled it across the room. "Damn you, Rachel! Why don't you get the hell out of my life? You ruin everything!" She stood there, panting, like some rabid animal. What the hell had happened to her?

She turned to look at Rachel.

But she was gone.

Even her coat and scarf were still there. She had simply rushed out.

The blonde searched everywhere. In the Law School library she crept around the rows of students simply searching. She knew she was disturbing the entire place. She didn't care.

Rachel wasn't there though.

She searched through the lounges, the commons, and the cafeteria and still nothing. The cold was piercing her skin as she ran from campus to Berklee. She was out of breath and struggling for air but she didn't care. She checked the practice rooms. But still nothing.

It was one AM by the time she put a pocketful of change into the slot of the telephone booth. "Hey, Leroy," she gloomily greeted.

"Hey," his voice was full of sleep. "Who is this?"

"Quinn."

"Quinn?" he shouted. He sounded scared and worried. "Is Rachel alright?" Quinn beat her fist against the glass of the booth. If he was asking about Rachel then obviously she wasn't there.

"She's fine," Quinn whispered.

Almost as though it weren't one o'clock in the morning Leroy began to simply converse. "How are you, Quinn?"

"I'm alright." She was the furthest thing from alright. "Do you hear a lot from Rachel?"

"Not nearly enough," he complained. "She should call more often. I'm not some stranger." Quinn smiled despite the situation, feeling oddly relieved and panicked at the same time.

"Is she with you? Rachel?"

"No," Quinn drawled out. "I can't put her on." Leroy sighed.

"She's asleep, don't wake her up." Quinn agreed. "Hey Quinn, how far away is Cranston that you can't come down on a Sunday afternoon, huh?"

"We'll come down," Quinn immediately replied.

"When?"

"A Sunday, I promise." Leroy coughed lightly.

"Don't give me that shit, Quinn. A loyal child doesn't say that. They say they'll come this Sunday." Quinn sighed.

"Yes, we'll be there this Sunday, Leroy," she said.

"Four o'clock then. Drive safely though, alright?"

"Right." And then he hung up.

Quinn was certain she looked lost in the middle of Harvard Square. An older man waltzed over to her and asked if she needed a fix. She thought about it, but kindly declined.

She quit running. She didn't see the point in running to an empty house, but she walked quickly. She was numb with fright despite the fact that it was very cold.

Several yards off she could see someone sitting on the front porch steps. They were motionless.

And it was Rachel.

Quinn was relieved. She prayed that the brunette would have a bat or something to hit her with. "Rach?"

"Quinn?" The silence that was between them scared the blonde slightly. The brunette had dried tears on her face. "I forgot my key."

"Rachel, I'm sorry," she began.

"Stop it," Rachel shouted, cutting off her apology." Love means not ever having to say you're sorry." Quinn gave her a watery smile in that moment. "Let's go to sleep, okay?"

"Okay," Quinn whispered while offering her hand to Rachel. The brunette accepted it and followed her up the stairs to their apartment.

While undressing, Rachel looked at Quinn lovingly. "I meant what I said, Quinn."


	13. Chapter 13

Short update. :) Hope it's alright though.

Most people finally figured out what story this was so kudos for that! There's about eight chapters left, but I think I'll just combine a few so it won't be as much. What do you guys think?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything else in this story.**

* * *

The summer heat was driving her insane, but the letter? The letter made it all worthwhile. It had been forwarded to the Port so she supposed she received word a few days late, but she didn't care.

She ran over to where Rachel was. The brunette was teaching some kids how to sing scales despite the fact that they were supposed to be playing kickball. Quinn snorted; that was typical Rachel. "Let's go," Quinn husked.

"What?"

"Let's go," she repeated with finality. She drug Rachel by the hand towards the water and smiled excitedly upon turning around. Rachel simply looked confused.

"What is going, Quinn Fabray? Tell me right now." Quinn simply laughed before walking out onto the dock. "Quinn, I have children to watch over. I don't have time for your childish games."

"I have something to tell you," she whispered before ushering her onto the boat. Rachel groaned before getting on board.

"You couldn't tell me on dry land? I don't understand what's wrong with you. Are you on drugs?" Quinn's jaw dropped.

"No." She was offended. "I wanted to show you this." The blonde held the letter out for the brunette to see. Rachel gasped upon seeing the Harvard emblem in the corner.

"Blondie, did you get kicked out?" Quinn smiled before shaking her head. "Well, then tell me what happened."

"Just open it," Quinn shouted.

"Are you number one?" The blonde immediately felt ashamed.

"Not quite," she mumbled with embarrassment. "Third." Rachel bit her lip.

"Only third?" Quinn frowned. That wasn't the kind of reaction she had been expecting. "Really? You aren't joking with me?"

"No, Rachel, I'm not," Quinn retorted, slightly wounded. "Don't you have anything to say? I still make the Law Review," she shouted. Rachel simply sat there with a no expression-expression. "Say something," she whined.

"After I meet number one and two. Maybe they'll be more attractive." Quinn waited for Rachel to break out into her special smile. "I'm leaving. Bye, baby," she shouted before jumping into the water. Quinn laughed before diving in after her.

"Hey," Quinn shouted, "you went overboard for me." Rachel giggled before wrapping her arms around Quinn and pressing a kiss to her nose.

"Don't get cocky," she snapped. "You're still only third. I don't know if you knew this, but there were still two spots ahead of you. Number one is all that matters." Quinn dunked the girl underwater before quickly pulling her back up.

"Listen up," Quinn replied.

"What do you want?" Rachel shouted against the crashing waves.

"I owe you a lot." Quinn's voice had quickly changed-turning serious and heartfelt. Rachel looked incredibly surprised. The blonde could see the unshed tears in her wife's eyes. Rachel cleared her throat before shaking her head.

"That's not true, Quinn."

"It isn't?" Quinn questioned. Rachel definitely took credit when it was due so the hazel eyed girl was unsure of what Rachel was pulling.

"You owe me everything." Quinn threw her head back in laughter, and for once didn't disagree with Rachel.

"Let's go celebrate. We can blow our thirty five bucks on something nice tonight." Rachel nodded, a smile on her face.

Even though the brunette was as snarky and as stubborn as Quinn, she could honestly say that they both loved each other more than anything in the world.

* * *

"Quinn this is a good piece. A very good piece," Mr. Fleishman, the senior editor said. Of course, Rachel had told her that it had been insightful, intelligent, and really well written. Somehow Rachel's compliments felt better than those of the hotshot standing in front of her.

The blonde went back to their home and smiled upon seeing Rachel setting out some lunch. Nothing big of course; they couldn't really afford much as it was. "Well?" Rachel asked with a huge grin.

"He called it a good piece, Rach." Quinn shrugged her shoulders before grabbing a piece of bread that the brunette was holding.

"Are you serious?" She screetched. Quinn was certain she was going to spout off things about the ACLU. "Did he not comment on your research? Or, or your style? Anything?" Quinn ran her fingers through her hair.

"No, Rachel. He just called it good." The brunette huffed before grabbing an apple and taking a bite out of it.

"Well then, what took so long, Blondie?" Quinn winked, fully knowing how Rachel felt about the number two man of the school: Elaina Scott.

"I had some stuff to take care of with Elaina," Quinn replied. Rachel stilled her movements and turned around slowly to face Quinn, who was trying her best to hide a smirk.

"Oh?" Quinn nodded. She couldn't read the brunette's tone and it amused her so.

"Are you jealous?" Rachel choked before reaching for a glass of water.

"No. I have much better legs. I'm positive that I have a better singing voice, too." Quinn chuckled.

"Can you write a brief?"

"Well, can she make vegan lasagna?" Rachel retorted quickly. Quinn smiled. Times like those were the ones that Quinn loved the most.

"Definitely," Quinn replied. "Actually, she brought some over to Gannet House tonight. I think everyone said they were as good as your legs." Rachel stomped her foot angrily. "What do you have to say to that, Wife?"

"Does Elaina Scott pay your rent?" Rachel asked with a pointed look. Quinn had lost and they both knew it.

"Damn it," she whined. "Why can't I quit when I'm ahead?" Rachel began to laugh so hard she had to clutch a counter to keep from falling over.

"Because Blondie, you never are." Quinn pouted and waited eagerly as Rachel swooped over and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

"Hey, Rachel?"

"Yes, Quinn?" The blonde wrapped her arm around the brunette's waist and tugged her towards he bedroom.

"I'm tired. We should take a nap together." Rachel arched an eyebrow. "I can't sleep without you," the blonde admitted with embarrassment.

"I guess that means I shouldn't ever leave you, huh?"

"Please don't," Quinn replied once they had reached the bedroom. She pulled the brunette down into her arms and sighed in contentment.


	14. Chapter 14

She had graduated in the top three in the Law School graduating class. It should have felt like an amazing accomplishment. In a way it did, but she knew that her greatest accomplishment was Rachel. Of course, graduating as the top three meant job interviews were plenty. Everywhere she turned someone seemed to be waving some sort of flag that read, "Please work for us Fabray!"

She followed the green flags, however. She knew what she wanted and she was going to get it. She wasn't going for something like clerking for a judge and the public service alternatives. Third she may have been, she still had an advantage over the top two. She was the only one in the top ten who was a pure-bred American. Sure, she didn't really care about that. Her wife was a freaking Jew! But the rest of the law firms did. They wanted WASP and Quinn could give them that. Her case was stacked high in her favor: Law Review, All-Ivy, Harvard, and everything else! She almost felt like a bonus baby and she loved every second of it.

There was an intriguing offer from a firm in Los Angeles. Mr. Jackson, the recruiter, kept informing her that with so many people there she would be guaranteed to always have a job. Especially with all of the crazies running around. She couldn't leave the East coast though. Personally, she didn't care where she worked, but Rachel truly wanted Broadway.

She had plenty of offers from Boston, Washington, and Pennsylvania, but none of those were going to get Rachel what she wanted. Quinn had yes to the law firm of Jones and Marsh, a prestigious office that was very civil-liberties oriented.

As it was, Jones and Marsh paid Quinn Fabray the absolute highest salary received by any member of her graduating class.

Which kind of made her realize that she was only third academically.

* * *

"We look so rich," Rachel shouted while pointing to the letter that informed everyone of their change of address. She squealed once again upon seeing New York, N.Y. plastered on the page.

"We are rich," Quinn insisted before pressing a kiss to Rachel's cheek.

She had felt entirely grateful in that moment. Rachel had bought a car that cost more than all of their rent at their damn apartment at Cambridge. Quinn simply enjoyed being able to have her own money for once rather than having her father's or being broke.

She would walk to work every single day and pass the many fancy shops where she insisted Rachel open accounts and start spending. Of course, the brunette protested, but Quinn didn't care.

She had joined the Harvard Club of New York due to Santana's whinning. The Latina would come up every weekend with Brittany and simply hang around, much to Rachel's chagrin.

Quinn was due to spend the weekend with the Latina and her blonde counterpart, but Rachel was adamant that she stay home. "Just fuck them, Quinn. I don't want to spend the weekend with them, okay?" Quinn grunted before throwing the brunette down onto the bed.

"Well, what do I tell them?" Rachel looked thoughtful before pulling the girl in for a kiss.

"Just tell them I'm pregnant." Quinn arched an eyebrow.

"But you aren't…"

"I could be if you stay home this weekend." Rachel smirked while Quinn simply rolled her eyes. Rachel had been mentioning babies a lot lately…and Quinn was fairly certain it meant something.

* * *

They had picked out several names. Quinn had let Rachel take the wheel on everything. It wasn't as though Quinn didn't care-that was the furthest thing from the truth. In between going with her to her different doctors and having Jesse tag along…Well, she had to say she had been a very good wife.

"Hey, I thought of a name," Quinn shouted while flipping through a magazine. Rachel looked up from her spot in the kitchen and turned around to stare at Quinn. "You have to promise you won't laugh though."

"What?" She asked while slicing tomatoes.

"I grew fond of the name Patches," Quinn replied with a small smile. Rachel chuckled before a few minutes of silence passed.

"So you are telling me that you would name our child Patches?" She questioned once more. Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I really would. Think about it, Rach, Patches Fabray. That's the name of a super-jock. They could follow in my footsteps." Rachel looked incredulous but continued to appease her wife.

"Patches Fabray," she tried it out. Quinn nodded with enthusiasm.

"Damn, you know, he'll be an incredible bruiser, Rach," the blonde continued. With each passing word she was convincing herself that having children then was probably the greatest idea. They were young. They were financially ready. "Patches Fabray, Harvard's huge All-Ivy tackle."

"Yeah, maybe," Rachel stated before wiping her hands off on a towel. "But Quinn," she seriously added, "what if the kid's not coordinated?"

"That's not possible," Quinn retorted instantly. "The genes that kid will have are too good. I'm pretty amazing with athletics. The kid will get your looks and voice. It'll be great." Rachel's eyes narrowed.

"Why on Earth would you give the kid my looks, Fabray? Is that some kind of joke?" Quinn flushed before looking down at her magazine.

"No," Quinn whispered. "Rachel, you're beautiful. And any kid we have needs to take after you in every single way." Rachel smiled. "That's why I'm adamant on you having them." Rachel walked over to the blonde and wrapped her arms around her neck before pressing a kiss there.

"I love you very much, Quinn Fabray," Rachel whispered before attempting to pull away to go back to the food.

"I love you too, Mrs. Fabray," Quinn replied before tugging at the brunette and pulling her into her lap. "Say we skip the food tonight and head straight for the bedroom?"


	15. Chapter 15

Ummm.

Sorry?

There's only a few more chapters left so if that makes you feel better... :P

* * *

Quinn was certain. Whoever said that getting pregnant was easy was insane.

"I'm sure you understand, Quinn," Dr. Sheppard stated, "that this doesn't mean anything is wrong with anybody involved with this." Quinn nodded before rubbing her temples. She was beyond frustrated.

"She does," Rachel replied for the blonde. "Perhaps we should take a different route though?" The blonde's ears perked up at whatever the diva was suggesting. "Maybe Quinn should be the one to try carrying." The doctor looked fearful-as though he knew something the two of them didn't.

"Babe," Quinn whispered, "Clearly my stuff is what's wrong here. You should just carry them." Rachel's brows furrowed in confusion. "Completely. Just you and Jesse…" They had come to an agreement that Rachel would carry the baby made from Quinn's egg and Jesse's little input. Regardless things hadn't been working out for them.

Jesse had been the first to go to a doctor to make sure that his swimmers were swimming properly despite the fact that he had been told they were fine when first going into the entire mess. That clearly only left the blonde despite the fact that Rachel and the doctor were trying to comfort her.

"Look, I see this stuff every single day." The doctor's voice brought Quinn out of her morbid thoughts. "There's probably nothing wrong at all. In fact, you could come back for your next appointment to find out that you'll be proud parents." Quinn didn't miss the way Rachel's face lit up. "I suggest though that the both of you undergo a group of tests. The entire works." Rachel nodded eagerly while Quinn simply shrugged with dejection. Why take tests when you know what the answer is going to be?

The following Monday they both went to the doctor to take the various tests. Rachel went during the day while Quinn went at night after work. Dr. Sheppard called Rachel in again that Friday explaining that the nurse had messed up and needed to check certain things again. The blonde began to suspect that maybe the problems were with her diva.

When Quinn received the call from the doctor while at Jones and Marsh she had decided she was certain. Dr. Sheppard had requested she show up at his office whenever she got off work. The urgency in his voice made her worry slightly.

Quinn couldn't wait until five, however.

* * *

"Do you know what the matter is?" He nodded. "Whose fault is it?"

"Quinn, I wouldn't really say that anyone was at fault. That's not exactly the best term to use." His voice was stern.

"Sir, we're two twenty-four year olds who can't have children. I believe that means that one of us must be malfunctioning." The doctor sighed. "Please don't try and tell me that it's the sperm donor. We know it isn't. Who is it?"

"Rachel," he replied. Quinn sighed. She had been prepared for that. The doctor sat there and watched her intently. She supposed he was waiting for some sort of statement from her. Quinn scratched her head lightly.

"We can adopt. This doesn't change anything. I love Rachel." The doctor looked almost sick as he poured out the next part of his news.

"Quinn…" He sounded distressed. Quinn was instantly on high-alert, ready for whatever it was the doctor had to say. She sat up straight in the leather chair and waited. "The problem is…well, it's a little more serious than that."

"What do you mean?"

"Rachel…" The doctor took in a deep breath. Quinn wanted to strangle the man and tell him to get on with it. She wasn't one for dramatic pauses and this man in front of her seemed to be the king of them. "She's very sick."

The words were like a knife digging into her. Flashes of everything that could be wrong went through her mind. What if whatever was wrong with Rachel was her own fault?

"What do you mean? What does 'very sick' even mean?" She shouted before jumping out of her chair. The doctor instantly ran over to her and directed her back to the seat.

"I don't know how to say this, Quinn." The blonde shut her eyes and willed herself to not strangle the man. "I'm afraid that she's dying." Quinn began to laugh. It was probably the most inappropriate way to react, but there was no way that what the man was telling her could be true.

"That's not possible," she replied after a minute of silence. "That's just…it's impossible." The doctor frowned while Quinn waited for him to tell her it was some sort of horrible joke.

"But she is, Quinn," he stated. "You don't know how sorry I am to have to tell you this. I don't understand how it wasn't found out about sooner. I just…I'm so sorry." She could feel her entire world falling apart.

"This is some mistake," Quinn shouted, unable to control her emotions. "That damn nurse-she made a mistake again. You got the wrong x-rays or whatever it is." The doctor stood up and rushed over to Quinn who had fallen into floor. In between the sobs and trying to yell she'd realized that she had begun to hyperventilate.

"There is no mistake, Quinn," he whispered. "We did her blood test three different times only to find the same result." The blonde was vaguely aware that she had somehow been moved back to the leather chair in front of the doctor's desk but she couldn't remember how she had gotten there. "There's no question about it. I'll refer you both to a hematologist-"

Quinn couldn't listen to the rest of what he was saying. Words like "therapy" and "treatments" were caught but nothing else. She felt her entire world crash and burn. Her heart had broken into a thousand pieces-because who was she without Rachel Berry at her side?

"She's only twenty-four," Quinn whispered, interrupting the doctor and causing the older man to fall silent. She swallowed her sobs long enough to look at the balding man. "Will it be painful?"

"Hopefully it won't be," he replied. "I'll refer you to Dr. Mills as soon as possible."

"Yeah..." A beat. "What can I do?" The doctor's eyes widened. "No, I mean, what can I do for Rachel?" She had finally moved past her own selfish hysterics and thought about how the brunette was going to be affected. She at least needed one strong person by her side. Quinn couldn't be that person if she were lying around in her own pity.

"You'll just have to act as normal as possible." The blonde nodded. "For as long as possible." Hazel eyes locked with dark brown ones. "That's the best thing you can do."

"Normal," she repeated while nodding. "I will be normal." A sudden thought struck her. "What did you tell Rachel?"

"That you were both fine," he replied.

"Did she buy that?" The blonde inquired. The doctor nodded. "When do we need to tell her?" The older man sighed.

"At this point, Quinn, it's up to you." Those weren't the words she wanted to hear. At that point she didn't even feel up to breathing. "It'll need to be soon though. Her form of leukemia is palliative. It might retard, but it cannot reverse." Quinn felt the silent tears rolling down her cheeks. "Treatment can wait for a while so everything is up to you."

* * *

She could feel the stares from the random people passing her by. She was certain she looked insane. She knew she was once again sobbing uncontrollably while running towards her apartment. Upon making it to their building she stopped inside the lobby bathroom to make herself look presentable.

She gripped the counter and prepared herself to face Rachel. Her Rachel. The girl she had fallen in love with on spot at that damn record store.

She trudged to the elevator and hit the button for the 10th floor using the spare time to prepare her to see the brunette.

She ran from the elevator to their door, using her key to quickly unlock it and barge in. "Rachel?" No answer. "Rach, I'm here," Quinn yelled while removing her coat. It was then that she heard the pattering of Rachel's feet rushing over.

"I need a lawyer," she shouted. Quinn felt her heart constrict. How much time would she have left with the girl?

"I'm a lawyer," Quinn answered. Rachel nodded and threw herself into Quinn's arms.

"I need you," she replied. Quinn held onto the brunette longer than she should have. Taken the few minutes to memorize the way her hair smelled, the way she felt beneath her touch.

"And I need you," Quinn whispered, trying not to cry. Rachel pulled away with a large smile before tilting her head back in laughter.

"What do you need me for?"

"I'll always need you, Rach." The brunette nodded before sending her wife a smile. "You look beautiful, baby."

"Bullshit," Rachel called out. Quinn chuckled before lacing their fingers together.

"Okay. Alright, you look terrible," the blonde snapped. Rachel's laughter filled the room and once again Quinn found herself wondering if she would ever forget the way Rachel sounded.

"I don't look terrible. I just look like I do every Thursday. Tell me what you see though." Quinn looked at Rachel, memorizing every detail.

"I see you." Rachel dropped Quinn's hands long enough to wrap them around the taller girl's neck and place a gentle kiss to her lips.

"So, the doctor told me that we both checked out. Is that what he told you?" Rachel questioned once she had pulled away.

Quinn usually wasn't one to lie. In fact, she could probably count on a single hand how many times she had lied to Rachel before. "Yes." Rachel smiled. "You know, I'm fairly certain that we can just forget about Jesse all together. I'm good enough that I could get the job done." Rachel's jaw dropped in mock impression.

"Is that so?" Quinn nodded. "Well, when should we start trying?"

"As soon as possible," the blonde replied with a grin.

"Like right now?" Rachel questioned while pulling at her cardigan.

"Even sooner." With that Quinn eased Rachel into her arms and ran towards their bedroom.

Hours after their lovemaking was over and Rachel had fallen asleep Quinn rolled over to simply stare at her beautiful wife and cry.

* * *

Without her permission she began to think about God. She had long ago given up on religion but now it had entered her mind again. She didn't want to slap Him in the face or punch Him for what had happened to Rachel. It was kind of the opposite, really. She would wake up in the morning and Rachel would still be there-and that was enough to make Quinn want to find a God to say thanks to. Thanks for letting her wake up to see Rachel.

Acting normal had proven to be harder than she thought though.

"Are you and Santana going out today?" She asked while the blonde was on her second bowl of Special K.

"Who?" Quinn asked with an absent mind. Rachel's jaw dropped unbeknownst to Quinn.

"Santana Lopez," Rachel spat, "your best friend. The girl that was your roommate before I was." Quinn dropped her spoon into the empty bowl before taking it over to the sink.

"Oh," Quinn replied, truly dumbfounded that she had forgotten about the Latina. "We were supposed to meet today, but I'm going to cancel our plans." Rachel sat her plate of vegan eggs down and looked at Quinn incredulously.

"You will do no such things. I plan on going down to the theatre with Jesse. He says that his friend's musical threatre workshop is falling apart. The leading lady came down with some sort of STD, I believe. Jesse seems to think I'll be the perfect leading lady."

"Rachel, I don't think someone just comes down with an STD," Quinn replied. "But really, I can cancel with Santana."

"Nonsense," Rachel replied after swallowing a bite of her eggs. "You go with Santana and do whatever it is you two do together. Don't end up in jail though. I'm afraid I'll have to divorce you." The blonde chuckled before taking a sip out of her orange juice.

"Alright. You have fun with Jesse then. Let's have dinner at that Italian place you love though." Rachel dropped her fork and eyed the blonde curiously.

"Why?" She asked.

"What? What do you mean 'why'?" Quinn shouted, unsure of why she was so upset. "Can't I take my wife out to dinner if I want to?" Rachel chuckled.

"Who is she, Fabray? What's her name?" Rachel asked in all seriousness.

"What? What are you talking about?" Quinn interjected. Rachel angrily pushed her chair backwards and stood up, leaving Quinn in a state of confusion.

"Listen up, Blondie," she explained, "when you want to take your wife to dinner on a weekday it just means you're screwing someone else!" The blonde immediately felt hurt that Rachel could even believe such a thing.

"Rachel," she shouted, "we will not have this kind of talk at my breakfast table!"

"Then bring your sexy ass back home to my dinner table, alright?"

"Alright," she replied before giving Rachel a goodbye kiss. The brunette bounded out of the apartment happily.

Quinn looked around the room and sighed. "God," she whispered, "whoever and wherever You might be-I will gladly settle with this." She sniffled, trying her best to keep the tears at bay because she had been taught that the Fabray family didn't cry. "I don't mind the agony. I don't mind knowing as long as Rachel doesn't have to know. Did you hear me Lord, sir? You can name the price."

* * *

"Quinn?"

"Yes, Mr. Jones?" she tiredly answered.

"Are you familiar with the McGrew affair?" he asked. Sure, she had been. Donovan McGrew had been a photographer for Life magazine. The poor guy had gotten the shit kicked out of him by the police in San Antonio while trying to photograph a riot in the LGBT community. Jones had considered this one of the key cases for their firm.

"I am," she replied while looking through various papers stacked on her desk.

"I'd really like you to handle it, Quinn."

"Myself?" He nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"How soon can you leave for San Antonio?" The blonde stiffened. She wasn't going to tell anyone about Rachel. She wanted to carry the entire burden herself.

"Sir, I really hope that you understand, but I can't leave New York at this time. It's very imperative that I be here at this certain time." The older man nodded, but the blonde could tell he was completely and utterly disappointed.

She left the office and slowly walked by the various stores on Fifth Avenue. She had always found many things she would have wanted to buy Rachel, but she had known that coming home with grand things for the brunette would be far from normal.

She felt horrible. Everything was her fault in its entirety. She hated going home because now, several weeks after learning the truth, she could see that Rachel was losing weight. Sure, Rachel herself hadn't noticed, but Quinn had.

The blonde would window shop the airlines: Brazil, the Caribbean, Hawaii, and so forth. That certain afternoon they were pushing Europe in the off season: London for shoppers, Paris for lovers…

And that's when it struck her.

"_What about me, Quinn? What about singing? What about this opportunity?"_

"_What about our marriage?"_

"_Who said anything about getting married?"_

"_Well, me. I'm saying it and I'm saying it right now."_

"_You want to marry me?"_

"_Yes. Yes, I want to marry you."_

"_Why?"_

She was a great credit risk and she knew it. Her signature on the dotted line was all it took for her to be the proud owner of two first class tickets to London.

Rachel looked pale and gray when the blonde arrived back to their house, but she hoped that her news would put the diva in a better mood. "Guess what, Mrs. Fabray," Quinn shouted.

"You got fired." Quinn snorted before pulling the tickets out of her purse.

"Fired up, maybe," she replied.

"Bullshit," she whispered. It was quietly though, lacking her usual cheer and mock-aggression. Quinn felt whatever was left of her heart breaking.

"Can you define that more specifically, please?"

"Quinn," the brunette softly said, "we aren't going to do it that way, alright?"

"Do what?"

"I don't want London. I don't need London. I just want you," she finished before dropping her head so that their eyes couldn't meet.

"You've got me." Quinn's voice cracked, the weight of their conversation breaking her resolve.

"And… And I want time." Quinn swallowed thickly. The room was spinning and the walls were closing in on her. "Which you can't give me…" Quinn's eyes finally met Rachel's, which were sad. They were saying she was sorry. The blonde opened her arms and welcomed the tiny woman she had thought she was going to spend forever with into her arms. "I've been feeling under the weather. I went back to the doctor and told him to tell me what was wrong." Quinn nodded, continuing to simply rock them back and forth. "He went to Yale, Quinn. College and Med School."

"Oh," she whispered, knowing that Rachel was trying lighten the mood. "I love you."

"Don't do that," Rachel replied.


	16. Chapter 16

So, I definitely think that a great majority of you guys hate me after that last chapter! Sorry, guys! :( I really am.

This one isn't long but I didn't want to combine chapters for this one so...I'm sorry that it's short.

Reviews are lovely but not necessary. :D

Also for the anons who keep asking-if you really don't know what this is based off of then yes, I will tell you the book name in the last chapter!

* * *

Despite the fact that Quinn was still scared out of her minds about everything that was happening, she was at the very least unafraid to go to her house. She wasn't scared about having to act _normal _without having a large threat of falling apart.

Their relationship was stronger than it ever was. She didn't credit it to what they had learned. They were once again able to share things with each other, even if it did mean they had the knowledge of all their days spent together being numbered. It only made everything else harder though. They had things they had to discuss, things that normal twenty-four year old couples would never dream of having to talk about.

They were in the music room. Quinn had specifically picked out an apartment with a room big enough that Rachel could put all of her music items in. Of course at the time they were so incredibly poor that the brunette owned nothing pertaining to music at all. The blonde had insisted that it wouldn't be a problem and bought Rachel everything.

It was where the brunette was most comfortable at. They were currently both seated in a chair that Rachel had deemed to be the blonde's. She had, after all, always sat there when Rachel would be singing or composing various pieces on the piano.

Her head was rested in the crook of the blonde's neck. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her waist and the back of Quinn's neck while the blonde in response held Rachel's shoulders. "I'm counting on you to be strong, Quinn," she whispered into the pale skin.

"I will, Baby. I promise, I will." she answered. Her voice was breaking, much like her heart. She wondered if Rachel knew she was indeed afraid. The brunette raised her head slightly so that her lips were only centimeters away from Quinn's cheek.

"For my Daddy. I think Dad will be able to handle it better, but it'll take the both of you to keep Daddy sane," she continued. "It'll be the hardest for him. After all, you get to be the merry widow." Her nose was stuffy; she had blatantly been crying despite the fact that it was obvious she didn't want Quinn to know.

"I won't be merry," the blonde interrupted with sadness in her eyes so fierce it forced Rachel to turn away.

"Please," she begged. "I want you to be happy. You have to be happy." Quinn could feel her resolve slipping. It was all too much. How could Rachel even expect her to ever be happy without the diva by her side? "Okay, Quinn?"

"Okay," she whispered, trying her hardest not to cry. The unshed tears were clearly visible.

"Okay," Rachel repeated before placing a lingering kiss on the blonde's lips.

* * *

A month had gone by and Rachel insisted that nothing could change. She still cooked dinner, refusing to ever let Quinn help. She claimed that food poisoning was not the way she wanted to die. Needless to say the blonde never laughed. The blonde had finally convinced Rachel to let her decrease her work hours at the firm so that she could spend her time at home.

It was after dinner while the blonde was putting the dishes up. The brunette was in the other room playing the piano, something that had become somewhat soothing to Quinn. She heard the music stop in mid-Prelude. Quinn waltzed into the room to see the brunette simply seated at the bench staring at the keys. "Rachel?" The brunette turned her head. "Are you okay?"

"Are you rich enough to pay for a taxi?" Quinn smiled before nodding.

"Sure," she replied. "Where do you want to go?"

"The hospital."

Quinn felt her heart stop. She knew that this was bound to be it. Rachel was leaving their apartment and never coming back. She simply sat at the bench while the blonde ran around in a confused state of mind. Quinn didn't know what one took to the hospital on such visits.

She wondered what Rachel thought. Was she afraid? What did she need to look at last for remembrance? "Hey," Quinn panted, "is there anything important you want to take along?" Rachel looked confused, sickly, and pale.

"No," she shook her head. After a brief pause she looked up at Quinn's hazel eyes. "You."

Getting a cab had been hard being theatre hour. It was ironic, she guessed, that so many Broadway shows were in swing at the current moment. Rachel leaned against the blonde, depending on her fully to stand. In some sort of selfish thought, she wished that no taxi would show up so that Rachel would simply lean on her forever.

After finally hailing a cab and telling the man to go to Mount Sinai Hospital the fool launched into some sort of ramble that sickened the blonde. "Don't worry about your friend," he stated while turning around to look at the pair. "You're in great hands. The stork has had many couples come through here."

Rachel cuddled into the blonde's body, reveling in the warmth Quinn provided. The blonde pressed kiss after kiss onto any patch of skin she could reach. "Is this your first?" Quinn clenched, and Rachel knowing her wife so well knew she was on the verge of ripping the man apart.

"Be nice, Quinn. He's trying to help us." The blonde nodded.

"Yes sir, this is her first," Quinn replied. "My _wife _isn't feeling well though so could you skip a few lights? Please," she begged. If the man felt odd about being informed about their marital status he didn't show it.

He got them to the hospital in no time and ushered them to the door before wishing them good luck and happiness.

Rachel was the only one who thanked him.

She was trembling and unsteady but she refused to let Quinn carry her. "You can't carry me over this threshold, Blondie," she chuckled. The blonde nodded and helped her in before being forced to sit through the painfully slow process of checking in. "Do you have any medical plan?"

"No," Quinn shouted at the receptionist before unleashing her inner (or outer, if you asked Rachel) bitch and got Rachel medical attention immediately. Her arrival wasn't expected though and it had taken Dr. Falkner a while to get to the hospital.

"She's getting her white cells and platelets," Dr. Falkner explained to the blonde once they were out in the hall. "That's what she needs the most of. She doesn't want antimetabolites at all." Quinn nodded.

"What does that mean though?" She would have felt stupid for being talked to like a child in any other situation, but she truly just needed Rachel to be okay.

"It's a treatment that slows down the cell destruction." Quinn nodded. "Rachel knows though that there can be many unpleasant side effects."

"Dr. Falkner, Rachel is the captain of this ship, alright?" He smiled sadly at her and nodded. "Whatever she says goes." He nodded before turning to walk down the hallway. "Just, you guys do everything possible to not make it hurt." The blonde instantly followed, matching him step for step.

"We will, Quinn," he replied.

"Really," she explained. "I don't care what it costs." She was raising her voice. They had reached the elevator and she was nervously pushing the button over and over.

"It could take weeks or months, Miss Fabray," he explained in disbelief. "That's a lot of money." Quinn seethed.

"I don't care. Screw the cost, Doctor." She knew that Rachel wouldn't approve of the way she was treating their doctor, but she couldn't bring herself to think about that.

"I was only saying, Quinn, that there's no way to know how long…or how short she will stay with us." The words were like a twisting of the knife already stabbed into her chest.

"You just remember," she replied, swallowing a sob, "that I want her to have the best. Private room, special nurses. You give her everything. I've got the money." The doctor looked at her warily. "Really, I'm rich. I have the money."


	17. Chapter 17

School was kicking ass so I wasn't able to update. But anyway, last chapter.

Faberry duet was pretty much the best thing my ears have ever heard. I've been listening to it non-stop since I found it. I'm a loser like that.

Also, I just wrote this with a quickness. I will be honest and say that I'm truly lazy and don't feel like checking for mistakes. :/

For the people who still didn't know what this was based on-it's called Love Story (original name, right?).

* * *

At 8 AM there were still far too many distinguished people in the building waiting to see their various advisors of sorts. Quinn glanced at the secretary who looked somewhat uncomfortable. "You may go back," she calmly stated. The blonde immediately ran past the various people before being faced with the very door she needed to go through. It swung open as she reached out to grab the doorknob.

"Quinn." She looked the man up and down and sighed. He looked somewhat paler than she remembered and his blonde hair was gaining various gray patches. "Come in." His voice didn't show any emotion. She nodded before walking past him and sitting down in the client's chair. "How have you been?" He asked once he had seated himself at his desk.

"Well," she replied, tapping her fingers lightly on the desk.

"How is Rachel?"She felt a stinging in her eyes but pushed it away, and instead of lying simply became evasive.

"Father, I need to borrow money." He arched an eyebrow. "A lot of money…"

"Alright." He nodded. "Well?"

"Well what?" He chuckled.

"Do I not get to know the reason?" Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Quinn, I can't give you money if you don't tell me the reason."

"I can't tell you." The telephone rang bringing them both out of their intense staring competition. It went unanswered.

"Don't they pay you well where you work, Quinnie?" She nodded. "Doesn't Rachel have some sort of teaching job?" The blonde clenched her fists.

"Don't talk about Rachel…please." He nodded. "This is a personal call. It's very personal, and Rachel doesn't know that I'm here."

"Did some guy get you into trouble, Quinn?" The implication wasn't lost on the blonde. She inhaled deeply.

"Yes. Yeah, that's what happened," she replied before standing up. Quinn was fairly certain that Russell knew she was lying, but he didn't care enough to find out why she truly needed money. "Just please," she pleaded, "give me the money. I'll pay you back. It's just that I've…I don't have as much as I need at the moment." He nodded before pulling out his checkbook. He finished writing the check and tearing it from the book before holding out for Quinn to take.

She realized slightly too late that the man had expected her to take the check from his hand. He looked somewhat dejected as he set the check on the edge of the desk for her to take without having to touch him. "There you go," he whispered. Quinn nodded, unsure of what to say. She grabbed the piece of paper and glanced at the amount before taking in a sharp breath of air. Russell Fabray had given her more than enough.

"Thank you," she whispered before running out of the office.

* * *

Telling the Berry men had been hard but they had accepted it as gracefully as one could imagine taking the news that their daughter was going to die. They moved into Quinn's apartment. Hiram dealt with his grief by cleaning house. Leroy simply attempted to continue living life as though nothing were wrong. Quinn figured that he knew it was what Rachel wanted them all to do.

Quinn spent the majority of her time at the hospital with Rachel. Some days the brunette would kick the blonde out claiming she needed time to herself, but Quinn knew better than that. She had a few guesses as to what Rachel did while alone, but she never made it a point to try and find out for certain.

She had called Jones and informed him that she wouldn't be returning to work. It was a fatal blow to her income and a large part of the reason she had needed to borrow money from her father.

She threw all thoughts aside as she hugged her coat closer to her chest before entering the hospital and following the familiar motions of getting to Rachel's room. "Doc," she shouted upon seeing Rachel's doctor down the hallway. The man stopped walking and gave Quinn a small wave while waiting for the blonde to catch up. "How is she?"

"She said she wants everyone home for Christmas." She chuckled, or tried to at least.

"Rachel is very demanding," she joked. He smiled sadly before running a hand through his curly hair.

"She may not hold up, Quinn." The blonde wondered about his choice in words-probably to distract her from the true meaning of them.

"That fast?" Her voice broke but the doctor said nothing else-simply nodded. Quinn pulled herself together before pushing door 213 open. "Hey, baby," she whispered to the lithe body in the hospital bed.

"Quinn," Rachel croaked. Her voice was raspy-not at all like the angelic and yet snarky tone she had been used to for the past five years-and yet Quinn thought Rachel still sounded amazing. "How are you?" She asked before pressing a lingering kiss to her lips.

"It's going," she whispered back. Quinn smiled before pulling away and easing herself into the bed. She wrapped her arms snuggly around the brunette before inhaling deeply, taking in all of Rachel's scents. "Quinn," she stated trying to pull the blonde out of her thoughts. "It doesn't hurt. I promise." She rolled over so that she was facing the lawyer. "It's kind of like falling off a cliff in slow motion."

She promised herself she wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry in front of Rachel. She rarely cried in life anyway. She was certain she could count on one hand the times she had cried. She knew that if she were to open her mouth though-she would definitely cry. So she nodded.

"Bullshit, Quinn," Rachel whisper-shouted.

"Come again," Quinn grunted.

"You don't know the first thing about falling off cliffs, Blondie," she said. "You've never fallen off of one in your entire life."

"Yeah, I have," she whispered while looking into soulful brown eyes. "When I met you." She pushed a stray brown curl from Rachel's face so that she could get a perfect view of her wife.

"I can't remember what key Don't Rain On My Parade is in," she shouted, startling the blonde. Quinn simply arched an eyebrow.

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so'? I have spent my entire life memorizing every musical catalogue that had to do with Ms. Streisand, and I can't remember what key it was in! This has never happened to me."

"Listen Rach," Quinn pressed a chaste kiss to the brunette's pouty lips. "Do you really want to talk about music?"

"Would you rather I talk about funerals?" It was a punch in the stomach. She forced herself to look away from Rachel but didn't loosen her hold on the girl any.

"No, no, I don't," she replied, choking back her sobs. She pulled away from the brunette and eased herself into a chair by the bed.

"I talked to my dads about it," she whispered. "Quinn, are you listening to me?" her voice became serious-something that Quinn wasn't positive she enjoyed. The blonde nodded and grabbed Rachel's hand.

"I am. I'm listening, Rach," the hazel-eyed girl replied while playing with Rachel's fingers.

"I told them they could have whatever ceremony they wanted. Religion is important to them after all. Okay?" Quinn nodded before placing a kiss against Rachel's pale cheek.

"Okay." She felt slightly relieved-any conversation had to be an improvement on what they were just talking about.

"Quinn," said Rachel in her 'I have a point to make' voice. "Quinn, you have to stop being sick." Quinn's eyes locked with chocolate ones.

"What? Me?" Rachel nodded weakly.

"That guilty look that you have every single day, Quinn. It's sick." She immediately tried to change her expression into something else, but it was to no avail. It felt as though her muscles were frozen. "It's no one's fault. It isn't mine, and it certainly isn't yours. Stop blaming yourself." Quinn wanted to continue gazing into her lover's eyes, but she found it impossible and had to lower her gaze. "This is the only thing I'm asking, Quinn. I know you'll be okay."

She felt something in her gut churning. She was afraid to speak lest she get sick everywhere. She simply looked at Rachel as though she were mute.

"Screw Broadway," Rachel said suddenly.

"What?" Quinn's head snapped up.

"Screw Broadway, screw the West End, and every single thing you think that you stole from me, Quinn. I don't even care. Do you believe that?"

"No," Quinn shook her head. At this point Rachel was beginning to cry making it that much harder for Quinn to keep herself together. She lowered her face into her hands and let Rachel play with her hair while she fought to keep the tears at bay.

"Then get out of my room," she shouted. "I don't want you here at my deathbed feeling sorry for yourself." Quinn knew that Rachel meant what she was saying. She could always tell when Rachel was telling a lie or being honest. So she lied in an attempt to keep her permission to stay.

"I believe you."

"That's better," she replied with a small smile. "Will you do me a favor?" Quinn nodded and watched as Rachel once again scooted over to make room for the blonde. She patted the spot beside her weakly. "Will you hold me?"

Quinn pushed the chair back and climbed into the hospital bed and squeezed Rachel's arm all while trying to push the thoughts of how skinny she had gotten aside.

"No, Quinn," she pleaded, "really hold me." The blonde, after much maneuvering to avoid the tubes in Rachel, wrapped her arms entirely around the brunette before pulling the thin blankets over them both. "Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

She wandered aimlessly down the stairs and into the hospital lobby simply listening to the clack of her heels on the linoleum.

"Quinn?" She stopped walking but refused to turn around and instead continued walking towards the revolving door. He was relentless in his pursuit and followed her immediately. "Quinn, you should have told me."

She turned around and watched as he looked at her intently. She could see their breaths coming out in puffs. The air was freezing, but Quinn was thankful for it. She had been numb and was thankful to be able to feel something. "As soon as I found out… I jumped into a car and drove here," he whispered. "I want to help." He took a step forward and gently rested his arm on her forearm.

"Rachel's dead," she told him.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, stunned.

"No," she stated. She wasn't sure why she repeated it-something she had once been told by the beautiful girl that was now dead. "Love means not ever having to say you're sorry." He said nothing as she did something she had never done in his presence.

She threw herself into his arms and began to sob while he embraced her tightly.


End file.
